One Another’s Shadow
by wombledon
Summary: Set after episode 8 of Ashes to Ashes. Just when the team thought things were settling down, Gene receives a strange note. The implications of this note slowly start to change his life forever. Gene/Alex. Rated M for strong language and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**One Another's Shadow**

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**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Some events and places described in this fic actually happened. You'll know 'em when you see 'em. Some familiarity with events in the UK / London in the 1980's and today is useful but not essential. Any unfamiliar language will be translated eventually. It's all part of the plot.

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"Ass'ole!! Ass'ole!!"

Alex winced at the raucous singing and laughter that floated up the stairs from Luigi's. She was supposed to have met them at 6pm and she was already two hours late.

"Ass'ole!! Asss-soldier, I will be!!" roared Ray, in full flight, as the rest of CID collapsed in laughter around him. The "ass'ole" song just killed them every time.

Alex smiled to herself. Crude and uncouth they may be, but they were also very funny at times. She surveyed the laughing men, scanning for Gene. He wasn't present.

"Boss!! Err… Ma'am!" cried Chris in welcome, getting to his feet and pulling a chair out for her.

"Poof," muttered Ray but smiling all the same. "What'll yer 'ave, Ma'am?"

"A glass of red, thanks Ray," she replied, smiling warmly in thanks at Chris as she sat down. Poor Chris. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he was willing to learn and he tried hard. Alex genuinely liked him.

Shaz leaned over to her, "We were wondering where you'd got to Ma'am."

"I wanted to finish that mountain of paperwork on my desk this evening Shaz," replied Alex. "I'm sick of it sitting there. Fresh start tomorrow!"

"Good Ma'am!" beamed Shaz back at her. Shaz had only returned to work about two weeks ago and even though she did her best, she couldn't make much headway through the filing.

Since Shaz had been absent, nobody had filed anything correctly or seen to it that copies of reports went where they were supposed to go. After Gene had accidentally knocked two huge leaning piles of paperwork onto the floor, and after he kicked at the fluttering pages in anger, he stormed off to the Chief Superintendent to request a filing clerk. He stormed back again in 15 minutes with a sour look on his face and slammed his office door with such force that a few more pages rose into the air. Nobody asked him about the filing clerk and everyone wished Shaz would come back. Soon.

Shaz did come back and the Guv, as a present, managed to wrangle a new electric typewriter and a fresh stack of carbon sheets for her. Alex had almost laughed at the notion that a typewriter could be a present but she saw that Gene was genuinely pleased he'd managed to get Shaz something that would make her life a bit easier. So she got a big red bow for the present instead and said nothing.

With the team intact once more, life began to settle down. The office was gradually getting restored to some order and they had just smashed a major gun running organisation, with links to the IRA, over the past few days. The elation felt by the group was being celebrated in true CID style. "The bigger the bust up, the bigger the piss up," was how she heard it described. She smiled again – judging by the state of her colleagues, this was the mother of all piss ups.

"Ye missed the ass'ole song," said Chris, handing her the wine.

"Only a bit. I heard most of it on the way down the road," she replied.

"Ye hear that Ray?" cried Chris. "Yer famous. Heard all across the town."

"I'm famous across this city for more than me voice," crowed Ray, to more laughter.

Still smiling, Alex rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine, looking for a sign that Gene was even in Luigi's.

"This is one of the best lunches _ever_," slurred Chris, starting on the sambuca. "Can't believe the Guv missed it."

"Yeah – where is he?" asked Alex.

Everyone turned to look to her in surprise. Alex cringed. Had she been too eager with her question?

"Ma'am?" queried Ray. "The match? Remember??"

Puzzled, Alex shook her head, "What match?"

"Where 'ave you been this last fortnigh'? _THE_ match. City versus Spurs!" explained Ray. "'E's been like a little kid at Christmas over it. Revenge for the Cup Final in May and all that. 'Aven't you been listening to 'im?"

"Well yes… but I thought it was on the television." Truth was she wasn't all that interested. Any time football was mentioned she just tuned it out. She didn't realise Gene was talking about going to the game.

"_Telly_?" snorted Ray. "Ye think the Guv'd be 'appy with Jimmy Hill and bleedin' Match Of The Day, do yer? No! 'E's got to see City live when they're in London."

"Oh!" said Alex, wanting to move the subject away from Gene's whereabouts. "Silly me – now where we? Ah yes. Sambuca. Chris, have you managed to light your finge-"

Shaz's knee pressed against hers urgently. "Go on Ray – it's your _other_ party piece!"

Ray, being only too happy to oblige, took out his lighter to cheers from the other men and proceeded to liberally sprinkle sambuca over his entire hand this time.

"Sorry Ma'am," said Shaz quietly in her ear. "It's just that Chris almost set his hair on fire last week doing this and I-"

Alex laughed, "Say no more Shaz. Say no more."

She stayed for about an hour and a half and joined in as best she could but it wasn't the same. It was always good fun when she and Gene propped up the bar while the lads enjoyed themselves in the background.

She missed him.

Giving herself a mental shake she went to bar and ordered a round for everyone before she headed off. She was senior officer here and it was customary to buy the last round. Gene always did it and she felt she should do the same in his place.

"Ah Signorina Drake!" exclaimed Luigi warmly. "You are all alone this evening. No Mister Hunt."

"Hardly alone Luigi," she smiled, gesturing to the rabble behind her. "I'd like to pay for an orde-"

"Mister Hunt has already taken care of it Signorina. But thank you."

"Oh. Oh! Well… in that case… I'll leave it there. Umm, thanks Luigi. I'll try and get this lot to start moving."

"It's no problem. It's early yet and they go soon. They always do. Eventually!" smiled the little Italian, not wishing Alex to act as his bouncer.

She thanked him again and went to say her goodnights. Some were so far gone they hardly noticed but Shaz waved goodbye and tried to get Chris to do the same but he was having difficultly focusing on Alex. Or anything for that matter.

Laughing, Alex made her way up the stairs to her flat, the sounds from the trattoria fading out behind her as she closed her front door. She leaned against it with a sigh. It had been a good night but… not the same.

She got ready for bed and from the street, she faintly heard the last stragglers leave Luigi's. Tired, she flopped into bed and slept soundly until about 3am when the phone woke her. Stumbling sleepily through the flat she answered it with a groggy, "'Lo?"

"It's me. You alone?" came a gruff voice.

"Wha'?"

"Wakey, wakey Bolls! Are you alone?" barked Gene.

"It's 3am for Christsa-"

"ARE YO-"

"YES! Yes, I'm alone. What's so urgent that-"

"I'll be there in a jiffy." And with that, he hung up.

Alex stared at the receiver in her hand, blinking the last remnants of sleep away. What exactly was going on here?

She pulled on her dressing gown and switched on the main lights when she heard footsteps outside her door, followed by a soft knock.

"Bolly? It's me. Open up," he whispered, not wanting to disturb any other tenants.

She did so and he stepped inside. Then he turned around and put the safety chain on before turning off the lights and walking swiftly to the front windows, he looked out into the street.

"Gene? What the hell i-"

"Shush," he whispered sharply and his general demeanour told her that he was serious. Then he snapped the blinds shut and drew the curtains.

"Ye can turn the lights on now," he said, flopping down onto the couch. "And if ye have a brew going, that'd be nice."

She clicked the lights on and they both squinted at the sudden brightness. Once his eyes adjusted he noticed that she hadn't moved from her position beside the door. She had her arms folded and also had "the look" that Gene knew only too well. He'd seen "the look" thousands of times on his ex-wife's face and he had seen it on Bolly's a few times too. He was in trouble.

"Look Bolly, jus' give us a brew and I'll 'splain everything then. I'm gaspin' for a cuppa," he said tiredly. It had been a long day and it wasn't over yet.

Resisting the urge to tell him to get it himself if he was so damn desperate, Alex went to the small kitchen area and put the kettle on. There was definitely something up and he did look pretty wretched. Paler than normal, harried and, dare she say it, anxious. The kettle whistled as the water boiled and she dropped a teabag into a mug, pouring the water in on top. Swirling the bag around with a spoon, she then mashed it against the side of the mug, squeezing out as much flavour as she could, making the tea as strong as possible. Then she added in the customary two heaped spoons of sugar, a dash of milk, stirred it all up, plonked some Garibaldis on a plate and brought it into him.

"Tar Bolly," he said, taking it from her. "Yer a lifesaver. Decent cuppa that." He took a few sips of tea, inhaled two Garibaldis and sighed. Then, rummaging in his jacket pocket, he took out a football programme.

"Open it in the middle," he instructed, giving it to her.

She did so and saw strange writing in black felt pen in a language she didn't know.

_An tÚsail Eoghan Ó Fiaich. Ar scáth a chéile a mhairimid. Óglaigh na hÉireann._

"I don't understand," she began. "What is this?"

"Blimey Bolly!" he scoffed. "Not much of a detective at 3am, are we?"

"Gene, please! Don't play games - what is this?" she asked, seeing that whatever was written here had rattled him.

"Look at the last three words Alex," he replied, somewhat crossly. "Now tell me I'm not being paranoid here."

"I-I... ummm... the last words? Well, one of them... it sort of looks like Éireann... isn't that Eire? Irish? I mean... Irish for Ireland?"

Gene sat upright and looked at her as if she was from another planet. "Irish? What the... _Óglaigh na hÉireann_, Bolly!! It's the bloody IRA!! Have you never read a security report in your _life_?"

In 2008, it had been a few years since the IRA had been of major concern to the Metropolitan Police. She had just joined the force after the Good Friday Agreement had been signed in 1998, effectively ending the terror campaign. She was aware of them, of course, but these days they just weren't the threat they once were. Like in the late 1970's. And 1980's.

Like _now_.

"Oh," she whispered, a sick feeling creeping through her.

"Marvellous. 'Oh'," he repeated sarcastically. "That's me fucked then."

She didn't argue back as she needed him to focus. "Gene, you need to call Special Branch immediately."

"Bollocks!" he exclaimed. "I'm not callin' no one until we find out what that message says. I'm not about to go runnin' to those bastards, if I've got nothing to worry about, am I? I'd never 'ear the soddin' end of it!!"

"Excuse me. Wait. _We_ find out what the message says?"

"Glad yer on board, Bolly!" he grinned at her but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Oh no way! No way!" she exclaimed. "We are not doing this. You show up here in the middle of the night, scaring me and not looking all that confident yourself! Then you want to keep this quiet? Gene - you could have a bomb in your car or flat or-"

"'Ouse," he muttered.

"What?"

"I don't live in a flat. I live in a house."

She rolled her eyes, "What does it _matter_!? Either way, you've got to be careful. How you even drove your car-"

"I didn't. I left it up near White Hart Lane. As far as I could make out, nobody had touched it but I didn't want to risk it so I walked back here. Didn't want to take the Tube neither."

"You walked?" she asked in disbelief. "From Tottenham to here? That must be what? Seven or eight miles?"

"'Bout that I reckon. I had to double back a few times to make sure nobody was followin' me," he sniffed. "I left the game shortly after half-time. Checked out the motor and then hotfooted it out of there. I rang you from the phone box across the road."

She ran her hands through her hair. "Okay Alex. Okay. Think. Focus."

Gene looked at her quizzically.

"Right - how did the writing get into your programme?"

"I don't know. It weren't there for the first half but at half-time, I 'ad to use the facilities," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "And when I got back I looked through me programme for the team list to see who was on the subs bench. That's when I saw it."

"Are you sure it's your programme?

"That's wot I thought too," he replied and then he flipped open the front cover. "But I always stick me ticket into the programme at the front like this."

He handed the programme back to her and there was his ticket, tucked into the stapled binding.

"So it's definitely mine 'cause that's me ticket."

"Did anyone around you see or-"

"Nah. I was in the stand and 'ad a seat on the edge of the row. There was an old bloke to my right and two other old duffers behind me. Nobody in front. I'd a great seat," he added forlornly. "I asked them if 'my mate' had dropped off a packet o' crisps for me but nobody had seen anything."

She nodded. So far, he had done everything properly. "Right. Well, we're not going to figure out what this means tonight. In the morning, you call Special-"

"We've been over this! I am not-"

She gently placed a hand on his arm. "Gene, hear me out, please."

He looked down at her hand and she thought he was a bout to shake it off him but he didn't. "You don't know these Branch bastards," he explained. "I crossed their DCI when I first arrived here and the git has never let it go. I can't go crawlin' to him now with nothin' to go on. He'll lord it over me forever."

"Do you piss people off by accident or just for the fun of it?" she asked in exasperation. Was there anyone that he didn't spar with?

"Do I 'ave to pick?" he asked dryly.

Sitting back in her chair, she sighed loudly, "Well, if you wanted to find out what the message said, then what is your plan? I'm not saying I'll agree to it, I just want to know."

"Go to Father Michael O'Flaherty, the Catholic priest in St Mary's, near Liverpool Street. I was thinkin' 'e might be able to translate it. I know 'im. Good bloke."

"Okay - how does this sound? First thing in the morning you and I will go to St Mary's and speak to the priest-"

"Steady on Bolls! I'm only just gettin' te know yer and we're already pickin' out a date?" he teased her.

"WE will speak to the priest," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "And if he can translate it, that'll be useful. Then, translated or not, we go to the station straight away and call Special Branch immediately. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

He thought about it for a moment, shrugged slightly and muttered, "Take it."

"Good. Now, answer me this. What's your gut feeling?"

"Hunger?" he smirked.

"Stop it!" she almost shouted. "God... Guv... you may have received a death threat from a known and active terrorist group who we seriously pissed off this week!! We broke up their gun smuggling racket, remember? And all you can do is make _jokes_?!"

Gene's eyes narrowed. He did not appreciate anyone shouting at him in that manner. Where did she get off, preaching to him? He was putting her in her place right now.

"Firstly, we broke up a gun running racketeering mob with links to the IRA. LINKS, Bolly! Not the bloomin' IRA itself. I'm sure they could really give a flying toss about some scrots operating out of London when they've got guns arriving by the shitload from Libya. Secondly, we don't know if it's a death threat or just someone pissing about and tryin' to put the frighteners on me. Thirdly, we don't know if it's for me. Fourthly, I'd much rather keep a sense of perspective than go wadin' into the deep end and have Branch crawlin' all over my arse. And lastly, my feet are bloody killing me, I haven't had anything to eat or drink since 4pm apart from this cuppa here, I've no fags left, I want to go home and my soddin' motor is in North bloody London with slimy Spurs fans eyein' it up. So excuse me for trying to look on the F_LAMIN' BRIGHT SIDE_!!"

"Oh boo hoo. Poor you," she replied sarcastically, utterly unconcerned with his sudden tantrum. "And here I am, trying to help you at 3:30am, when in fact you have this all worked out already. Fine Gene. Go home then. I'll just open my curtains and blinds, shall I? And I'd like to go back to bed. You can let yourself out."

He didn't move and neither did she. Eventually she wiggled her fingers at him as if waving goodbye, "Night, night!"

"Sod off," he grumped, scarfing another biscuit down. So much for trying to put her in her place.

"Thought as much," she said, folding her legs beneath her and persisted with her original question. "Gut feeling?"

"I'm up the proverbial creek, Bolls. This... this is some serious shit I'm in and I ain't got a paddle."

"So, we'll do things properly from now on. No sending Ray to frighten information out of people. No getting Chris to talk to every snout in London. No-"

"I get it," he interrupted brusquely. He wasn't a flaming child. "I already agreed to your deal, remember?"

"I remember. I just want to make sure that you do. No matter how frustrated or impatient you get, just let the investigation take its course. Your gut feeling, the one you've relied on for your entire career, is telling you something about this case. Listen to it and above all else, don't ruin things by being stupid."

For some reason, those last words really cut him. Stupid. He was only too well aware that in her eyes he was a lummox. A great, big blundering old copper, who was only good for kicking the shit out of scum. Before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth.

"You think I'm stupid?"

She sighed loudly. For an imaginary construct, he was awfully touchy when he wanted to be. "No. I do _not_ think you're stupid. I just wish you'd use those brains of yours a bit more often and stop landing yourself in trouble."

"Oh lovely! Thanks for the advice, _DCI_ Drake," he barked at her, emphasising her non-yet-achieved rank.

She sagged back against her chair, "I'm _so_ tired Gene. I don't have the energy to keep fighting with you. Do whatever you want and don't get me blown up in the process. I just want to go home."

"That makes two of us Bolly."

Alex nodded, her eyes drifting shut for the briefest of moments. She could see Molly, at home, laughing with Evan. Molly.

"Any more tea?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"You know where it is," she replied sleepily and much to her surprise, he got to his feet, groaning a little, and shuffled off to the kitchen.

"You want one?" he called, clanking around with the kettle and toaster.

"No thanks," she murmured, Molly's image before her. Don't blow out the candles Molls. I'll be back. I promise.

Something nudged her leg. Alex opened her eyes to see Gene standing in front of her, mug in one hand, plate of toast in the other.

"You should go back to bed. Is it okay if I kip on the couch?"

"'Course," she yawned, getting to her feet. He moved out of her way and she noticed he winced as he did so. "What's wrong?"

"Me feet. I'm certain I've got blisters the size of tennis balls from these flippin' shoes. Should've worn me boots."

"Well, you weren't to know you'd be trekking across London," she said moving his jacket from the couch and hanging it on the coat rack. It was odd, seeing Gene in his off-duty clothes of a jumper, shirt and slacks. He just didn't look like himself. "I'll get you a blanket and pillow."

He mumbled his thanks around a mouthful of toast as she disappeared into her bedroom for a moment or two. She reappeared with a large blanket and her spare pillow and left them on the couch for him.

"I hope you'll be somewhat comfortable. You know where everything is so... help yourself."

"Will do Bolls. Will do. Err... goodnight and err... ye know. Thanks, like."

"'Night Gene. See you in the morning," she replied, smiling gently at him. With that, she went back to bed, closing her bedroom door behind her.

"'Night Alex," he said softly to the closed door and then munched some toast before quietly adding, "Goodnight John Boy! Goodnight Sue-Ellen... no... that's poxin' Dallas..."

Gene took a sip from his mug and moved his chair closer to the window. Turning off the lights, he opened the curtains and blinds, watching the road outside and drinking his tea.

He was in a river of shit up to his ears. He just knew it.

.oOo.


	2. Chapter 2

**One Another's Shadow**

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**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! Very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy the next bit. Again, some people, events and places are real.

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Gene stayed beside the window in Alex's flat all night; awake and vigilant. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone had followed him even though he had used every skill he had to throw a tail off the scent. He didn't even give them the easy option of hopping on the same Tube or bus as him. No, if they were going to trail him, they'd have to work for it and he wasn't going to make it a pleasant stroll in the park. He didn't even come here by his usual route. Instead he had used side roads, he had doubled back and he used the alleyways through the various London council estates. Normally those estates were the preserve and boltholes of the villains he would be following but now? The warren of alleys and side roads that so often thwarted the Quattro, were now his refuge. He used the phone box across the road because there was no street light over it and it was partially obscured by a post box.

Yes, he had done everything he possibly could to protect himself.

So why did it feel like he had led someone straight to Luigi's and Alex's flat? Although, if they got close enough to write in his football programme they probably knew all there was to know about him already. So they would know where he ate, drank, worked, lived and they would also know who he associated with. And where they lived.

So Gene sat, in the quiet darkness, with his thoughts plaguing him and his fears growing. He watched everything and everyone out on the road. Every time a cat skulked near rubbish bins, he started, thinking it was something else. Every car that went by, he scribbled down the registration number on the back of Alex's phone book. A crash sent his heart pounding but it was only the milkman who accidentally dropped a bottle of milk from his milk float at the corner of the road. Gene noted a quick description of the man. Just in case. Dawn had now spread across the sky and soon enough, the postie appeared, dropping letters through letterboxes. Gene's watch bleeped for 8am and he decided it was time to get a move on. London had well and truly woken up, which is more than could be said for the still sleeping Alex.

Gene decided not to wake her and he went and used the bathroom first, splashing cold water on his face and trying to reduce the haggard look around his eyes. He badly needed a fag too. His hands were beginning to tremble from the lack of nicotine and caffeine. He was damn glad he couldn't shave. He stuck his head under the tap in the bath and the cold water helped to clear his mind a bit. His feet still ached and he figured he could do with a nice long soak but he was dammed if he was going to do that here. He dried off his hair with a spare towel he retrieved from the airing cupboard, running his fingers through it to tidy it as best he could. He pulled his shirt and jumper back on and then went to make some poison strength coffee. When there was still no sign of Alex and it was getting on for 8:30am, he went to her door and gave it a thump.

"Oi!! Bolly!! Shake a leg!!"

He gave the door another thump, harder this time, and then he heard her groan.

"Go _away_!"

"Not this morning, sulky knickers! Up yer get. I've got the kettle on."

There was another moan, followed by the distinct sound of feet hitting the floor. Satisfied that she was up, he went back to the kitchen and opened the 'fridge, where there wasn't much to choose from. Not proper food anyways. Plenty of rabbit food but he wasn't a soddin' rabbit, was he?

He heard her door open, followed swiftly by the bathroom door closing. He stayed in the kitchen, giving her some privacy to potter about.

All he could find that he would eat was cornflakes, so he had a bowl, more toast and coffee and waited for her. She appeared looking just as she always did and motioned towards the door.

"Will we go?"

"D'ye not want any breakfast?" he asked, nudging a piece of toast towards her.

She shook her head. "No, we're late enough as it is. Come on."

"Jus' 'ave it," he said, putting the crockery in the sink. "'Ave some coffee too. It's made and everything. Proper coffee – the spoon could stand up on it's own in it."

"Gen-"

"Bolls, you're 'alf-starved looking already. Eat the toast, 'ave a cuppa and then we'll go. I've got to put me shoes on anyway."

She relented and did as he suggested, figuring it would just be easier. When he was ready, and had shrugged into his jacket, he asked her to bring along a bag.

"What kind of bag?" she replied, rummaging under the sink and pulling out various plastic shopping bags.

"No, not that. A work kind of bag," he said, drawing a large rectangle in the air. "To put papers and files in."

"A briefcase?"

"Well, whatever a bird uses for a briefcase will do!" he said, getting frustrated.

"Okay! Keep your hair on!" she replied, giving him a cross look. She wished he'd stop snipping at her. "I'll have a look."

She went into her room and he did feel a bit bad for snapping at her. God – he needed a fag desperately. Alex returned in a moment with a large handbag in her hands.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

He nodded, "Close enough. Give us it 'ere." He took the bag from her and looked inside.

"Jesus – tat and _more_ tat. We don't need any o' this," he said, emptying the contents out onto the coffee table. Various things such as lipstick, eye-shadow, mascara, tissues and a small bottle of perfume tumbled out.

"Hey!!" she cried. "That's my stuff!!"

"I'm not doin' it any 'arm!" he said, "I need the bag fer work Bolly. Not fer tartin' yerself up."

"Yes Gene. That's _exactly_ why women have bags. To tart themselves up. My tiny little airheaded brain isn't capable of grasping bigger and more important concepts such as _work_," she spat in annoyance, gathering her scattered posesions together.

He paused in the process of filing the bag with his various bits and pieces. "No need to be so 'ard on yerself Bolls. Yer don't mind if I rip this, do yer?" He tore the back off her phone book without waiting for a reply.

She gave him an incredulous look. He was the most insufferably arrogant man she had EVER had the misfortune-

"You got any scissors?" he asked.

She huffed a loud sigh of annoyance and stomped back into her room. Depositing her "tat" on her dressing table she then went into the kitchen and found the scissors. Which she handed to him, sharp end first.

"Weren't you never taught how to 'and over scissors?" he asked, taking them from her, knowing full well what was going on.

"Oh can we just _go_ already?" she asked crossly.

"No problem Bolls!" she said, handing the bag to her as he marched towards the door.

"Hey! You wanted the bag so you can carr-"

"No. _You_ can carry it," he said firmly, pulling the front door shut behind them. "I'm not trottin' across the town with a woman's 'andbag under me arm. It's not that 'eavy. I think you'll be able to manage, scrawny an' all as ye are."

"You really are insufferable sometimes!" she glowered. "A few hours without a smoke and you're in a foul-"

"I'll be in a fouler mood if you keep on at me," he said, a cold look in his eyes. He was rapidly running out of patience with their bickering. "Give us the sellotape and scissors, please.

She rummaged in the bag and handed him the requested items. "What are y-"

"Watch and learn," he said curtly.

He tore off a long strip of tape and then, using the scissors, he split the strip down the middle. Trimming the edges, he carefully stuck one of the narrow strips from the top of the door out to the top of the door frame and then did the same thing to the side of the door near the bottom. Now, if anyone entered the flat, they'd dislodge the tape. He had placed the strips of tape as unobtrusively as he could and unless you knew they were there, you'd never notice them.

He surveyed his handiwork and was satisfied with it. If one strip fell off the other might hold.

"Nice work," she said, standing beside him, impressed that he thought of securing the flat.

"I 'ope they don't come in through the bloody window," he replied before handing her back the tape and scissors. "Right Bolls! Work to do." With that, he turned on his sore heels and led the way out of the building.

* * *

He still insisted on walking even though his feet were killing him and she was in ridiculously high-heeled boots.

"You could've said we weren't going to be getting the bus," she lamented and she walked along beside him.

"I thought that was bleedin' obvious seein' as how I _didn't_ use public transport yesterday," he replied, striding away. "I'm going to check your personnel file. A Detective Inspector? I think someone is pullin' me leg!"

Alex made a face at him and began to fall behind.

"Bolly - step lively! 'Aven't got all bloody day!" he barked at her.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the pace a little. They stopped off in a corner shop for cigarettes, he then led her through every side road and alleyway on their way that he knew of until they got to the church. He held the door open for her and sighing in relief, Alex stepped inside.

It was quiet inside, not a sound could be heard, apart from the very faint rumble of traffic outside. Gene walked down the centre ailse and she followed on tiptoe as her heels clicked loudly against the tiles. It seemed… disrespectful to make a noisy entrance into this quiet place.

Moving to the side of the altar, Gene tapped on the sacristy door.

"Father Mike?" he called softly

The door opened and an old priest stood there with a hymnbook in his hands. He smiled as soon as he saw Gene.

"Well, well, well! Gene Hunt. And what brings you to my door at this early hour, Sir?" he asked, extending his hand in welcome and Gene shook it. "Come in! Come in! I'm just getting ready for 10 o'clock mass."

He ushered Gene and Alex into the sacristy and closed the door behind them.

"Father, this is my colleague DI Alex Drake," said Gene, introducing her. "We've got a bit of a problem that I hope you might be able to help us with."

"Oh ho! Who's in trouble now?" smiled the priest.

"That's what we hope you can tell us," spoke Alex, taking the programme from her bag and opening it at the relevant page.

"We we're wondering if you'd be able to translate that?" asked Gene, pointing to the writing.

"Oh! Oh I see," said Father Mike, searching for his glasses.

Alex spotted them on a small side-table and handed them to him. He took them with a grateful smile.

"I'm always leaving them out of my hands," he explained. "I once found them in the baptismal font. Now… what's all this about then…"

He took the programme over to the light and looked at the writing closely, his face giving nothing away as he read it.

"Is it Irish?" asked Alex, attracting a look from Gene. Of course it was Irish!

"Yes. Yes it is," he replied, turning around to face them and reading it out loud. "An tÚsail Eoghan Ó Fiaich. Ar scáth a chéile a mhairimid. Óglaigh na hÉireann." He turned to face Gene with a sad look in his eyes.

"Just tell me Father," said Gene, already knowing what that look meant.

"It says; _Mr Eugene Hunt. We live in one another's shadows. The Soldiers of Ireland._ Or, as you know them, the Irish Republican Army. The IRA."

"It's got his name on it?" asked Alex, shocked.

"Yes. An tÚsail Eoghan Ó Fiaich. An tÚsail is the formal way of addressing a man. Eugene is the Anglicised version of the Irish name Eoghan. Ó Fiaich is sometimes said to be the Irish form of the surname Hunt."

"Well, at least they're _polite_ murderin' scum bastards," said Gene. "Oh… 'scuse me language, Father."

"I think Mr Hunt, given the circumstances, it's understandable," said the old man kindly.

"Can you write that out phonetically for me please?" asked Alex, now feeling terribly anxious.

He took out a pen and a blank sheet of paper and did as she asked. Then he helped her to read what he had written.

"On too-sal O-wen O'Fee. Air scaw ah kay-la ah war-ih-meed. Oh-glee nah hair-in," she repeated, in a halting monotone. It really didn't sound like what he read a few minutes ago. She tried again and the old priest smiled.

"You'll get there in the end DI Drake. It's not an easy language to pronounce."

"Can't we just stick to the English translation?" grumbled Gene, not seeing any benefit in this stammering repetition in Irish.

"I just wanted to know what it sounded like," she explained.

"I'd rather know what it _means_," he shot back, not wanting to get into a debate with her now. "Any ideas Father?"

"Well, _we live in one another's shadows_ can mean different things. It could mean that someone is watching you. It could mean that you have someone under surveillance and they know about it, keeping a close eye on you at the same time. It could mean that your actions impact on others, just as their actions will impact on you. I'm afraid it very much depends on the context and this," he gestured to the note, "is very much _out_ of context. It means something to the person who wrote it and all you can do is interpret their intentions."

Gene sighed, "We've not got a lot to go on, 'ave we?"

"Not really, no," agreed Father Mike.

"It's not a quote from the bible or anything is it?" asked Gene, thinking that it sounded a bit like it could be.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said.

Gene gave him a small rueful smile. Something else was troubling him about the note. "Ó Fiaich… Ó Fiaich…" he said, speaking thoughtfully. "Where… why do I think I've seen that name before? Recently like…"

"Tomás Ó Fiaich," interjected Father Mike.

Gene looked at him in amazement, "That's it!"

"It's no wonder," replied he other man.

Alex, however, was completely in the dark. "Would someone clue me in?"

"Oh for the love of…" sighed Gene. "Bolls… you have GOT to start reading the odd security report that might land on your desk. Or maybe, ye know, even watch the _news_ once in a while!"

"Cardinal Tomás Ó Fiaich, DI Drake," explained Father Mike. "He was much involved with the Hunger Strikers and the Dirty Protests. There was a lot of coverage about it this year. Especially after the whole Bobby Sands incident in May although I'm sure the police would know more about it than I would."

"Yeah, well Father, I wouldn't bet the farm on that," glowered Gene, looking directly at her. "Eh, look. We 'ad better be off. Thank you for helping us out on translatin' this."

"I'm sorry that it is directed at you Mr Hunt. Do take care of yourself."

"I'll be fine Father. And err… you never saw anything. For your own sake. We won't be sayin' 'oo translated this fer us. To anyone."

They all said their goodbyes and Alex and Gene left the church swiftly, just as the small congregation was beginning to arrive for 10am mass. Once outside, they walked in the direction of Fenchurch station in silence. Gene smoked his way through one cigarette after another, daring Alex to say one word to him when she caught his eye.

* * *

She wasn't going to say anything about his smoking. Not today. Not with what he had just heard. The English translation swam around her head. _Mr Eugene Hunt. We live in one another's shadows. The Soldiers of Ireland._ Alex was scared. She was stuck in the bad old days of IRA activism and she couldn't remember important details. Things like bombs that were about to go off… she tried and tried but there was nothing. She couldn't make the connections. There would be one in Harrods but she didn't know when. Another one on a bus. There would be a big one in Brighton… Manchester… Canary Wharf… All going to happen but when? _When_?

"Why are you so quiet then? asked Gene eventually. When Alex was thinking or was this quiet it had, to date, always meant trouble for him.

"I was just wondering errr… is your first name really Eugene?" she asked, the question sounding even stupider once she said it.

"'Course it bloody is," he barked. "Where do you think Gene comes from? Anyway, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, calls me Eugene."

"It's a nice name."

"It may be. But it's not mine. _Got it_?" He gave her an angry glare.

"Got it."

He took another long drag of his cigarette. "Let's get back to the station Bolls and 'ope we don't 'ave any more problems this morning."

Alex nodded her head and then paused as something hit her nose. "Is that... rain?"

.oOo.


	3. Chapter 3

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: This is a bit long. It suddenly took on a life of it's own! As always, thanks for your encouraging reviews. It means a lot to know you're enjoying this.

* * *

It was rain. Gene just couldn't believe his bad luck. Huffing in annoyance he stamped his cigarette out on the pavement.

He didn't want either of them getting soaked so he decided to change the plan and flagged down a taxi. He figured that it would be best, as they were halfway there, just to go directly. He was anxious to get back to the station as soon as possible and

"There's an extra quid or two in fer ye if you can do it sharpish," said Gene, speaking to the cabby. "Nobody'll nick ye. Jus' go fer it."

The cabby obliged and floored it, sending the taxi careening around corners and hurtling down one-way streets in the opposite direction. Alex wondered was it just Gene's influence or did everyone in 1981 drive like a maniac? She gripped the strap over the door for dear life as yet another corner loomed ahead. No rear seat belts in here either.

With a screech, the taxi pulled up outside the station.

"£1.50 Sir," called the cabby.

"'Ere's a fiver," said Gene handing it over. "Don't spend it all at once."

"Cheers mate!" chirped the man, delighted with his windfall. "Mind 'ow you go!"

Gene responded with a gruff, "Will do!" and ushered Alex up the steps in front of him. The taxi roared off and he looked forlornly at the spot where the beloved Quattro was usually parked. Sighing, he followed Alex up to CID.

* * *

"Mornin' Ma'am! Mornin'… Guv?" said Ray, as they entered. The Guv _never_ wore his civvies to the office. Never!

"Wot's going on?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

"You'll find out soon enough, I reckon," said Gene, stomping towards his office but stopping abruptly in front of Chris. "_OI_! Shit-fer-brains!! Wot 'ave I told you about listenin' to that thing in 'ere?" he roared, knocking Chris's Walkman earphones off him. "Stop playin' wi' your flippin' toys and go do some work!! _Barlow_! I want that report on the electric goods robbery on Bolly's desk this poxin' century so take yer finger out o' yer arse and GET CRACKIN'!"

His office door slammed shut and quiet returned.

"Wot the bloody 'ell…?" breathed Ray, glad he had escaped a telling off.

"For once, he actually has a reason-," began Alex but Gene shouted at her from the office.

"Drake! Get in 'ere!!"

"It's about to kick off," said Alex to Ray and Chris. "Stay here Ray. Say nothing to anyone who comes in. Chris, take Shaz immediately and pull all the Guv's files where the main suspect was Irish. Go. Now!" she hissed. Chris jumped to his feet and went to get Shaz as ordered.

"_DRAKE_!!"

Alex moved swiftly to his office, reminding Ray to stay put. "I heard you the first time!" she replied in exasperation as she entered his office. She closed the door behind her quietly. "Gene, stop this nonsense!"

"_Excuse_ me?" he asked in amazement, not quite believing she was telling him off like a bold child.

"What was all that about? There's no need to be a bully and roar at them. Not today!"

"DI Drake! 'Ow I run my squad and 'ow I speak to my men is my business. Your opinion on the matter counts for shit. So take a seat and shut up while I make this call."

Alex sighed loudly and sat primly on the chair as he picked up the phone. She thought to herself that sometimes Gene Hunt really was just a rude, arrogant bastard. When he was in this sort of form, everyone came in for a tongue-lashing. Today, of all days, when he was going to need his team around him, he was doing his upmost to drive them away. Her thoughts were interrupted by his gruff voice speaking into the phone.

"Mooreland? It's Hunt. 'Ow friggin' long does it take you lot to answer the phone?"

There was a pause as the person on the other end replied. Undoubtedly with something equally as antagonistic. She glared and motioned at him to cut it out. Gene grimaced or grinned, she wasn't quite sure which, and flipped the two fingers at her. Alex huffed and folded her arms in annoyance.

"Right. Well – your mother is an' all!" he barked. "Mooreland just shut up and listen. I 'ave something urgent here fer ye to look at."

There was a pause.

"I said _urgent_."

Another pause.

"It would appear to be a written threat from the IRA… Yes. Yes really…" Hunt rolled his eyes in exasperation and, pointing to the receiver, made the wanker sign at Alex. "See you in 15 minutes then," he replied, slamming the phone down.

"Are they coming here or do we-"

"They're coming here," he said, rifling through the desk drawers looking for cigarettes. "Fuck… I've none left… Can't face that piss-artist without me fags…" He started rummaging in the filing cabinet for his emergency supply.

Knowing he smoked those weeks ago, Alex got to her feet, went out to Ray and asked for two smokes, indicating who the recipient was to be with an annoyed jerk of her head.

"Take the whole packet Ma'am, if it'll 'elp calm 'im down," said Ray, shoving an almost full packet towards her.

"Thanks Ray. We're waiting on some people from Special Branch. Show them in when they arrive, would you? And remember – not a word to anyone."

He nodded briefly but inwardly sighed. Not a word about what exactly? As far as he knew Chris was of down in the file store, probably feeling up Granger right this second, and the Guv was in a foul, nasty tempered mood. That was pretty much the status quo according to Ray, so what could he say to anyone?

Alex had returned to Gene's office and tossed the packet at him.

"Tar Bolly," he said, lighting up one appreciatively. "Ye sure ye don't…"

"I'm positive," she replied, wrinkling up her nose in disgust. Horrible habit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two men in the office and Ray brought them to the door.

"Special Branch to see ye, Guv," he said, eyes full of questions.

Alex nodded to him and sent a look that clearly said "later". Ray left them to it, wishing someone would clue him in. He hated all this cloak and dagger bullshit.

* * *

DCI James Mooreland, DI David Crane, Gene and Alex were soon engrossed with the discussion about the note and its possible meanings. DI Crane had immediately called the bomb squad who were probably half way to the Quattro as they spoke.

"You want to tell me how you translated this?" asked Mooreland, not yet entirely sure if this was another Hunt wind up.

"I have a snout. Someone who is very reliable," said Alex. "I can't say more."

Whatever about Hunt, Drake had already gained a reputation for being straightforward, if a tad unhinged, so Mooreland nodded. "Fair enough. You won't mind if we double check the translation though?"

"Not at all," she replied. "It's a good idea to do so."

Gene rolled his eyes at her very correct manner. She and this DI Crane person were a right pair, what with their "Sir this" and "Ma'am that". Nauseating to listen to them. He tuned back into the discussion.

"And this name here… err… Eo-gh-an O F-Fi-a-ch…" Mooreland stumbled over the pronunciation.

"It sounds like Owen O'Fee," explained Gene. "Apparently, it's a direct translation of me name."

"Gene Hunt is Owen O'Fee?" smiled Mooreland, teasing him. "Really Gene? Quite the little leprechaun, aren't y-"

"Fuck off Mooreland!" he spat. "I'm sure the Irish for you is Arse O'ole, you dic-"

"Okay!" interrupted Alex, holding up her hand. "Okay!! We're dealing with a threat from the IRA here, so can we just deal with the issue, please?

DI Crane looked at her gratefully. He too was sick of the perennial pissing contest between Hunt and Mooreland.

"For the millionth time; we don't _know_ if it's from the IRA!" growled Gene at her.

"Considering that you called us," cut in Mooreland, "And considering the fact that this isn't something which happens every day of the week, let's just assume the note was written by unfriendlies."

"Unfriendlies?" repeated Gene, that wind-up glimmer in his eye which Alex knew only too well.

"Well, we have to call the writer _something_ as you won't let us use the IRA word," she said, diverting his attention from Mooreland.

"IRA isn't word Bolls. It's an acronym," said Gene in a lofty tone, looking smug. "Like CID. Or, indeed, CIA."

Astonished, she cried, "I know what it i-"

"May I suggest that it doesn't really matter, Sirs? Ma'am?" interrupted Crane to a snort of laughter from Gene. "Mr Hunt, whether it is a joke or not, someone has written to you in a manner which is meant to be intimidating. As far as Special Branch is concerned, this is real. Terrorism and the investigation of same is not _ever_ treated as a joke. I would advise Sir, most strongly, that you also treat it that way too."

Gene didn't have a snappy come back to that. He merely nodded his head.

Crane continued, "Now, Is there anyone in the IRA you may have crossed previously, Sir?" he asked intent on doing his job and ignoring the posturing.

"Not that I know of," replied Gene. "But they don't exactly advertise their membership with little green Armalite stickers on their lapels, ye know?

Alex chimed in and gave a proper explanation, "We also broke up that gun running ring this week and as far as DCI Hunt is aware, he has not made any political arrests involving terrorist organisations so far. However-"

"_Political_ arrests?" scoffed Mooreland. "Really Drake – you'd want to be careful in using the word 'political' when it comes to these bastards."

"I apologise," she said, neatly stepping around the gauntlet that had just been flung in front of her. "As I was saying, DCI Hunt has arrested a few Irish men since arriving in London. I have requested that those files be pulled so as to assist your enquiries."

"Well, thank you _very_ much Inspector. Right Hunt! I think myself and Crane will be on our merry little way. If we need anything further I think we'll just ask Drake here. A pleasure as always." And with that he marched out of the office. Almost with a swagger, if it was possible to march and swagger at the same time.

"We will give you a security detail Sir," added Crane.

"Me own lads are taking care of that," said Gene, staring after Mooreland with furious eyes. He was holding onto his temper by sheer force of will and he ached to rip Mooreland's poxy little head off.

"Very well Sir. I have taken the liberty of getting this for you," he said, producing a thick folder. "It's standard operational practice for dealing with terrorists. It will explain to you about checking your home and car, varying your route to work etc etc. You might find it useful." He placed the folder before Gene.

"Oh… right. Err… thanks Crane," replied Gene, somewhat nonplussed by the fact that, apparently, not everyone in Special Branch was a twat.

"The bomb squad have probably arrived and will be checking your car out. They will transport it back here within the hour and show you how to do your own sweep. As soon as we have any further information, I'll let you know. Good day, Sir. Inspector," he nodded towards Alex and then followed his boss back to their section.

* * *

When he had left the CID offices, Alex turned to Gene. "There now. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"That little _shit_ Moorel-"

"Oh Gene – let it go! He might be a bastard but he's head of Special Branch here. So, we're going to all get along until this is solved. Crane was helpful, wasn't he?"

"Huh," grunted Gene, dropping into his seat and pulling the folder towards him. "Look at all this twatery. Listen ta this; 'Scrutinise your motor vehicle and note any minor defects which, to your knowledge, were not present before' blah, blah bolloxy blah."

"Just have a read Guv," said Alex coaxingly. "You don't have to do what it says but maybe there's something in there which might help you if… if…"

"If what?" he asked, looking up at her.

"If you found yourself in a bit of a situation," she said, moving off his desk. "I had better go and fill the troops in. See if we can work out a security detail roster that's not too predictable to the outside world. But before I do that…" she trailed off.

"Wot?"

"I don't want in-fighting to ruin this Operation. What did you do to Mooreland? What started all of this?"

"A 'friendly' game of football."

Alex's face was a picture of incredulity as she said, "You have _got_ to be kidding me!" All of this was over a bloody match?

"Afraid not Bolls. Mooreland, the little evil prick, took Chris out. Went for the man rather than the ball. _Someone_, a.k.a. Ray, called him a bastard for doing it. Evil Prick took great exception to that and demanded I 'reprimand the individual concerned' or some such bollocks. I dunno. I weren't really listenin' to 'im."

"So he's carried a grudge because you didn't do-"

"No! Yer see, I _did_ do something about it! Evil Prick, 'e's standin' there at the door of the dressing room, demandin' to know who called 'im a bastard. I said… heh! I were right proud of this one…" Gene paused and gave a short laugh. "I says to the lads; Oi! Which one o' you bastards called this bastard a bastard?"

"You _didn't_!!" she laughed.

"'E asked fer it. 'E's twice the bloody size of Chris and 'e knocked the poor lad into next week."

"So Mooreland has never forgotten your dismissal of him," concluded Alex, still smiling.

"'E's so friggin' retentive, I bet 'e still 'olds a grudge against the tooth-fairy for only givin' 'im a farthing."

Alex heaved a good-natured sigh. "You make life _so_ difficult for yourself. You do realise that, don't you?"

"People just don't get my unique sense of humour, Bolls," he replied as she made her way to the door. He watched her go and a morose look settled on his face again. He sighed loudly. "Alex…"

"Yes?" She paused, he hand on the door handle.

His shoulders slumped. "Nothin'. I suppose you 'ave to do this?"

"We do."

"Nothin' in me life will be private now, will it? Yer all going to go over every little thing I do."

She let go of the handle and moved back over beside him, half sitting on the desk.

"Is there anything you don't want me to discuss with the whole team?"

"No… it's not like I have that much of a hectic social life, is it? I'm just… well… What if I wanted to see a bird, or somethin'? 'Oo's gonna be watching me then? I…" he paused and sighed again. "Fuck it. Doesn't matter."

"No, no it _does_ matter," she said, wanting him to trust her not to scrawl his private life all over the office whiteboard, even though the thoughts of him on a date gave her a small pang of jealousy. "If you trust me to lead this Operation then you know I'll handle certain matters as discreetly as I can.

"You can be discreet?" he asked, a curious look on his face.

She looked puzzled, "Of course I can! What do you take me f-"

"I don't take you _for_ anything. But I would like to take you _out_."

She stared at him in total surprise, not expecting that turn in the conversation.

"Out. On a date like. We never got to go for our dinner in some place posh, did we? We had a nice evenin' in Luigi's I know, but that was Luigi's. Nothing posh available on short notice. So if you still want sole - then so would I. And I wouldn't like to think anyone out there-" he gestured with his thumb "-would be waiting in a car outside while we were having dinner… or something."

She waited until he was done rambling. How he could be so nervous asking her out when he had a _much_ bigger problem to worry about made her smile.

"I said yes before and I'm saying yes again. You leave me to figure out who'll be looking after you that night. Errr… I mean… ummm…" The words were out before she realised what she said and she blushed furiously.

Gene almost smiled. "You really 'ave got a right dirty mind! Leapt straight into the gutter there, Bolls."

Utterly red, she moved away from him and walked towards the door, willing her face to cool down. "I'll just go and… err… do this… now…" she stammered, bumping into the door on her way out.

"Okay," he said, reaching for the folder again and winking at her.

She marched out to the bigger office and plonked herself down behind her desk, hiding her face behind her hair as she pretended to read through a large file.

Gene watched her, feeling hugely relieved that she hadn't turned him down. Asking her out the first time had resulted in his heart pounding in his ears and staring at the floor like an idiot. Asking her out the second time wasn't a whole lot better. His hands were clammy and he flinched as he dropped hot ash from his cigarette onto his trousers. He had been too busy watching her to notice the burning butt.

"Get a grip, you clod," he berated himself as he dusted his trousers off. "Jesus Hunt… what 'ave you done to yourself… out o' your league and don't yer forget it. Fuck… I need another fag…"

* * *

Alex hoped her face had returned to its normal colour and she turned to the whiteboard behind her. Right in the middle, as neatly as she could, she transcribed the note in Irish and followed it with the English translation.

She sent Ray to get Chris back from the file stores and now they were both back. Ray was watching her intently. His curiosity at all the coming and goings was now getting the better of him. Sod it! He was a sergeant and deserved to be higher up the food chain than-

"Ray, a word?" she said, indicating that he should sit in the chair beside her. "Chris! You too."

They both fairly scrambled over to her and she filled them in on everything. From 3am in the morning to the meeting with Special Branch.

"Is the Guv okay with us knowin' all this stuff?" asked Chris, who was usually not privy to all information.

"I'm running this Operation Chris and _I'm_ okay with you knowing. I need you both to work with me on this one. He's going to need a security detail and I think he would prefer it if we could manage between ourselves."

They nodded eagerly. "Just tell us wot yer want us to do Ma'am," said Chris.

"Well, we need to work out a roster that divides up the work fairly but is also unpredictable. That's going to take a bit of time so I-"

"I'll do it," volunteered Ray. "It'll be done for this time tomorrow. Everything. Who does nights. Who does days. Who does weekends. I'll plot it out for three months."

It was a big task and normally something she would do herself. However, Alex also knew that now was the time for the team to really pull together and for each person to have their own responsibility. She nodded at him. "Okay Ray. Thank you. And Ray? I know you were pretending to be half asleep earlier but did you notice anyone else from Special Branch sniffing about?"

Ray grinned. "Funny you should ask Ma'am. Someone came in and asked why Chris and Shaz were pulling out records. I told the twat to piss off."

"And that, Raymond, is precisely why you're invaluable to have around," she grinned at him. "What we do on this Operation stays between us _only_. I will tell Branch what we know and DI Crane will do the same for me. But nobody else talks or shares info. Is that understood?"

"Crystal clear Ma'am" said Ray, pleased that she really did want him around for a purpose. Even if the purpose was for him to be his usual belligerent self.

"Got it Ma'am," said Chris, knowing that Alex's little lesson had be mainly directed at him. He had let the cat out of the bag on more than one occasion. But not this time. "What can I do to 'elp ye now?" he asked, eager to be of use.

Alex already had a plan for him. "The bomb squad are bringing the Quattro back from White Hart Lane as we speak. They're going to show the Guv how to sweep the car properly. I want you to tag along and watch too. Ask questions if you need to. Don't be put off by him if he shouts. You need to know how to do it properly. Then I want you to drive the car under the supervision of the squad driver. He'll show you how to do evasive manoeuvres and how to do it safely."

Chris looked positively terrified. "You want me to d-drive the Quattro… Ma'am… I don't think the Guv-"

"He will. Chris, you're the only one of us who doesn't have any police driver training or certification," she held up her hand before Ray interrupted. "I know. He drives like a maniac but he is, amazingly, certified competent. Chris, you're going to have to do it _today_. I know it's a lot to take in but that's the way it is."

"Does the Guv know about-"

"I'll tell him later. I'll be at the bomb sweep demonstration too and once I get him safely out of the way, the car's all yours. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Ray I know you've had your share of experiences with car bombs so…"

"You better believe I know what to look fer," replied Ray. He wasn't likely to forget his experience of almost being blown to Kingdom Come.

"That's good to know," she said. "Right! We're going to solve this and we're going to keep him and ourselves out of trouble. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they chorused together.

"Go to it then," she said with a smile and ushered them away from her desk as the phone rang. She took the call and hung up the receiver. "Chris? Get the Guv. The car is back."

* * *

Gene, Alex and Chris hurried out to the yard behind the station where two men from the bomb squad were waiting. The rest were already en route to Gene's house, posing as council workers there to inspect the drains.

In fifteen minutes they had explained all the main things about what to look for. They showed them the key trigger points, the best places to put explosives and how to identify if the petrol tank had been interfered with.

The officer showed them how a bomb could be linked to the radio and Alex staggered slightly, feeling sick. Gene said nothing but made her get into the driver's seat under the pretence of watching a demonstration. He kept his hand on her shoulder as he leaned in, looking to see what the bomb squad officer was showing her about the radio switches. Then he pulled back, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and taking her hand, helped her out of the car.

Nobody would have noticed anything unusual in their behaviour at all. Nobody except Alex. Gene Hunt simply did not help people out of cars. She knew exactly why he made her sit down and why he was being such a gentleman now. She pressed his hand gratefully before letting it go and he gave her a ghost of a smile.

With the demonstrations about the car out of the way, Alex was eager for Chris to get going on his training. Surreptitiously she handed him the keys and with a whisper to be back at 5pm, she led Gene inside.

* * *

Once back in his office she filled him in on the plan so far and waited for the explosion when he heard that Chris had the car. It didn't come.

"The lad 'as to learn it sometime," he shrugged. "If 'e's goin' to be driving me from time to time, I'd rather 'e knows what the fuck 'e's doin'. Good plan so far Bolls. And Raymondo is actually in the office, workin' on complicated shit?? I've got to say… I'm impressed."

"They're doing this for you Gene. We all want this solved as quickly as possible and we want it done correctly. I'll bring in as many of the gang as necessary but only if I think they're up to job."

There were no arguments from Gene about this either and he agreed with her assessment of the situation. Alex couldn't figure out where the blustering blunderbuss from this morning had gone. He had been replaced with a reasonable man who actually seemed to have a bit of respect for his men and for her.

"Are you really okay with everything I've put in place so far?" she asked, still unsure about his real opinion.

He nodded. "Watchin' that bloke go over me motor… Bolls, we've both seen wot can 'appen when a car goes up. I'm not dyin' behind the wheel of me car at the 'ands of some terrorist bastard. If they want to take me down they're not going to 'ave an easy job of it. From wot I've seen, you know wot you're doin'. That's all I need to know."

"Okay. Well… that's… it's good that you trust me," she stammered. "I won't let you down and… thanks. For earlier. For letting me sit. I didn't… I wasn't feeling all that great."

He shook his head, indicating that her thanks wasn't necessary. "Ye saw yer friend get blown up, after eveythin' you did to try an' stop it. I'm not surprised it still takes it ou' of yer."

He paused and studied his desk for a moment.

"I didn't believe ye back then Alex. I thought you were on some crazy chase an' that…" he coughed, uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "I thought you were deliberately tryin' to get this place shut down. I were wrong. An' I know I 'aven't said it to yer but… I'm sorry about it. I should've listened and seen that…" he paused again and this time, a small smile crept onto his face.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked, not angry and actually genuinely touched with his apology.

"No. Well, yes! Ye drove a shaggin' tank over a car! You're barkin' but you're not _that_ barkin'! I should've known that. Shoulda seen it. And I'm sorry."

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Good. Right then. What else 'ave you planned?"

They talked about various other aspects of the security detail and how the Operation would go. She called Ray into the office and the three of them poured over the security timetable for what seemed like hours.

Needing a break, all three headed to the canteen for some dinner and much to her relief, it was somewhat edible today. Ray and Gene scoffed down a huge plate of spaghetti bolognese each. She made do with a quarter portion and some salad which, of course, attracted many comments and sniggers.

Slowly, they made their way back to the office where Gene and Alex started to go through the files that Shaz had retrieved for them. Ray returned to his timetable and was currently sticking bits of paper together to make larger sheets.

Everyone was busy until Chris gave a timid tap on Gene's door eventually interrupting them.

"All done Ma'am," he beamed, handing her the keys. "Not a scratch on it Guv. I were told to park it in the secure garage fer ye. It's there fer when yer ready."

"Thank you Christopher! Can we take your L-plates down now?" teased Gene.

"Yes Guv. Bomb squad driver says I'm a natural."

Sensing that Gene was just about to say something sarcastic Alex spoke. "Well done Chris. Would you go with Ray to the Guv's house please? Find out what the squad have to report."

Chris nodded and Gene added, "Don't 'ang about in front of me 'ouse. Just go in and make sure them bastards wipe their feet. I don't want mucky bootprints down me hall. Got it?"

"Got it Guv. See yer later!" With that Chris backed out of the office and himself and Ray left CID.

"Natural driver me arse!" scoffed Gene. "A natural twat, if you ask me!"

"I _didn't_ ask you and I _knew_ that's what you were going to say," said Alex. "You should lighten up on him Gene. Chris worships you."

"We've 'ad this conversation before Bolly," sighed Gene. "I told you then and I'm tellin' you again. I'm _not_ their Akela. I'm their DCI and I don't give out friggin' lollipops to men who should just get on wi' their jobs, _okay_?

In defeat, Alex sighed even louder than he had. One minute he's being nice and the next he's being… Gene Hunt. Then she yawned which set him off.

"I think we should call it a day, don't you?" he asked, reaching for his jacket.

She nodded tiredly.

"I'll bring ye home. C'mon. Let's try out this fairy boy anti-terrorist bullshit."

* * *

She followed him out to the car and they took turns in performing a sweep. Satisfied that they both knew what they were doing, they got in and Gene roared away, taking a circuitous route to Alex's flat.

She wouldn't let him leave the car unattended on the road and insisted she was perfectly capable of checking to see if the sellotape on the door was still intact.

"When ye get in, come over to the window and give me the nod that everything's okay," he instructed. "I'm waitin' 'ere until I see yer."

Suddenly something dawned on Alex. She hadn't arranged any security for tonight. It had been her intention to speak to Ray before he left with Chris. Dammit!

"Gene, what about if you stay here? Don't go," she said, reaching for his arm.

"I 'ave to go Bolls. I need a wash, a change of clothes and a good kip."

"But I haven't spoken to R-"

"I don't care. I didn't sleep a wink last night and I'm dead on me feet. I'm going 'ome Bolly and I'll see you sometime tomorrow. Anyway, the bomb squad will be waitin' for me. Everything will be fine."

Seeing the officer show him how to sweep his car and knowing that they were already checking his home really worried her. This was a dangerous time in London and Gene… Gene needed someone to help him for a change. He could… something bad could…

"No," she whispered.

"No?" he repeated. "Blimey! If I'd known you wanted me to stay that badly, we could've 'ad some proper fun!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"In your dreams," she said in a cross manner but her smile betrayed her. "No. You are not spending the night alone. Security-"

"I am goin' _'ome_! The only security I need is the security blanky on me bed," he grinned. "Give over Bolls. Squad's at me 'ouse already. It'll be-"

She was having none of it. "You want to go home and relax. That's fine. I'll just be there too. Let me grab some stu-"

Realisation dawned on him. "I am _NOT_ 'aving you as a babysitter!!" he cried, incredulous. "No flippin' way are you stayin' at mine! I can look after meself, thank you _very_ much!"

"You are having someone to stay with you, whether you like it or not," she said firmly. "Now Ray and Chris are already there, so you can pick between us all."

Gene looked as if he had just swallowed a nettle. "That's fuck all choice Bolls! Listen to Christopher prattle on about that dozy plonk of 'is? Or put up with a curry filled Raymondo whose farts can kill every living thing within a ten mile radius of 'is arse!? No fuckin' WAY!! I am not 'aving either of those two in me 'ome!! NO!!"

"Well - that just leaves me." She smiled at him sweetly.

"You are _not_ stay-"

"I _am_!" she insisted, knowing that they had to get this right. "And I will also call the Superintendant if I have too. He'll tell you the same thing. You are not staying on your own and you can just get used to it. What did we set all this up for if, on the very first night, something goes wro-"

"Jesus H Christ on a _bike_!" he interrupted with a loud groan, clapping his hands over his ears. 'Ow you do go on woman! FINE! Collect your junk and let's go!" he barked at her and glowering, he slumped down in his seat to wait. "And 'urry up!! I ain't got all bloody night!" This was untrue obviously but he was tired and cranky. Never a good combination with him.

Alex climbed out of the car and was just about to cross the road when he called out to her. "I still want to see ye at that window."

"Okay!" her reply floated back. True to her word she was at the window in no time and gave him the thumbs up. Within five minutes she was back in the car with a stuffed overnight bag. Gene rolled his eyes when he saw it. Just how long did she think she was staying for? He stomped on the accelerator and they sped away, driving in silence.

* * *

To her surprise, Gene eventually pulled up outside a neat mid-terraced house near Paddington Street Station. It was a nice road, lined with trees and seemed quiet. She could see that the bomb squad was just packing up.

Chris and Ray were in the hall and gave each other knowing looks and shoves when they saw Alex carry in her overnight bag.

"Oh shut up, you pair o' tossers," spat Gene at them as he passed by. "It'll be your turn to babysit me soon enough and won't that be fun!"

Ray stared at his feet and Chris seemed suddenly fascinated by his fingernails.

"Well?" barked Gene.

"Yeah Guv… it'll be fun," answered Chris.

Gene ran his hands over his face and eyes in impatient exasperation. "Sweet Christ give me patience…" he mumbled, breathing deeply. "Not that, you _pillock_!! The bomb squad Christopher. The sweep of me 'ouse. Would either o' you like to fill me in?"

"Oh, right Guv," answered Ray. "Errr… no. There's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary 'ere. They checked yer bins and everything and nobody seems to have disturbed so much as a milk bottle. They checked the shed out back and that's fine too. We did it as quiet as possible and didn't 'ang about out the front like you asked. I don't reckon any neighbours saw owt was up."

The bomb squad's unmarked van pulled away and Gene had to acknowledge that they just looked like as if they were there to clean the drains. He didn't want Ray and Chris standing around for much longer either. The net curtain brigade in his neighbourhood were far more alert that his two detectives imagined. In fact, he was practically certain he saw the curtain in Mrs Wilkinson's sitting room moving as they spoke.

"Good then. Right. On yer way then boys. See you at work tomorrow."

They nodded goodbye to him. "'Ave a good night then, Guv," added Ray with a slight knowing tone to his voice. Which wasn't at all lost on Gene.

"Piss off Raymondo," he replied, a glint in his eye.

Ray took a drag of his cigarette, winked at Gene, and led Chris to the car. The Guv might be the ultimate hard man and a right nasty bastard when he wanted to be but sometimes, on very rare occasions, he would allow himself a few moments of happiness. It made no odds to Ray. If that's what the Guv wanted, fair play to 'im.

In fairness, she wasn't _that_ bad. For a batshit crazy posh bird.

.oOo.


	4. Chapter 4

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: This one is a bit angsty. Thanks to all those who have reviewed and PM'd me. I hope you continue to enjoy it. there'll be another update coming in a day or so.

* * *

Gene didn't know what to do with her in the house. She had vanished into the spare room, after he told her where spare sheets and blankets were, and was busy making bed. He leaned heavily on the kitchen worktop and kicked off his torturous shoes. All he wanted to do was get cleaned up and go to bed but… did he have to make small talk… or be polite? He sighed.

"Gene?" came her voice from behind him.

"Yes Bolly?" he replied turning around to face her.

"Do you want dinner?

"Nah – ate my fill of grub in the canteen. You?

"Same," she replied, nodding. "Soo… umm…"

"Bolls, you mind if I go t' bed? I need to shave and get meself sorted out and…"

"Oh not at all! No, you go and do whatever. I'm just going to watch a bit of telly and you know… keep an eye on things."

"If you can do both at the same time Bolls, that's some achievement," he said sarcastically. Then he picked up his shoes, opened the back door and padded out to the bins. There was a clang, two thuds, another clang and he came back indoors, minus said shoes. "That's sorted out me shoe problem," he explained with a grim smile, shutting the door firmly behind him and locking it.

She gave a snort of laughter. How typical of him.

"I'll be off then. See you in the morning. 'Ope you're comfy enough in that spare room."

"I'll be fine. Thanks Gene. Goodnight."

"'Night," he replied and left her alone.

Alex made herself some coffee and then wandered into the sitting room. She was quite surprised with the house. It wasn't the rather austere, unlived in place she imagined it would be. Gene had quite the music collection, although it looked like he hadn't listened to anything on the record player in quite some time. There was a layer of dust on the turntable. There was a bookcase, stuffed with books on all sorts of different topics. Quite a bit on police procedure and the history of policing. Football almanacs, cricket rules, daring-do novels set in World War II, books on expeditions across the Sahara, up mountains and to both Poles… in short, Gene's library was a "Boy's Own" library. But she was still surprised he had one all the same.

On the bottom shelf she found a copy of _Jane Eyre_. Thinking that this book wasn't his style at all she took it out and flipped it open. On the flyleaf was an inscription. "Christmas '68. My darling Janey. Happy Christmas pet. Love you always. Dad." With a pang, Alex realised that it must have belonged to his wife. Ex-wives. Heh – the irony wasn't lost on her. She was an ex-wife, looking at a book belonging to an ex-wife. A book which, for it's happy-ever-after ending, needed the ex-wife safely out of the way. Alex smiled again and made sure the book was put back exactly where she found it.

Looking around the room, she had to admit it was nice. Nothing fancy and the furnishing were plain, but they were comfortable. Everything was cream and brown, a bit late 1970's in style and not as "trendy 80s" as her place was, but nice. From what she had seen upstairs, he kept the house tolerably well. Better than she expected. Even the spare room was clutter free and clean. Maybe it was because he never used it. She thought the place would be a bit of a tip, considering he seemed married to the job. But he had proved that he wasn't quite the confirmed old bachelor yet. Probably picked up some good habits from his marriage.

She had to admit, she was unsettled by the fact that his home wasn't what she expected it to be. If this was all in her head then… it should be as she had already constructed it. But it wasn't.

Not even this case was. It had detailed information about the 1980's terror campaign that she was only vaguely aware of. How would her subconscious know about an Irish Cardinal with a translated surname of Hunt? Or all that stuff about the IRA and the Hunger Strikers? She didn't know all that much about it in 2008! It just wasn't possible that she was back in time and this was all real! It was NOT _possible_!!

"_It ISN'T!!_" she said out loud and quickly covered her mouth. Hastily, she turned on the TV as she didn't want Gene thinking she was shouting at herself. Ooof!! Her head hurt – trying to figure out this real versus imaginary thing really took it out of a girl.

Keeping the volume somewhat low she watched late night television until BBC closed down for the night with the National Anthem and then, the test card girl came on.

Alex did a double-take when she saw the image. She recalled how Sam had been tortured by it, and she had to admit, the enigmatic smile on the girls face started to give her the chills. Not to mention the fact that she was also looking at a creepy green clown.

All of a sudden, the test card clown became the white Pierrot Clown. Her father.

Alex gave a shriek of fear and just as quickly, the image was gone. The green toy clown was back in place. She shuddered and quickly turned off the television. There wasn't a sound in the house and the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. She took deep breaths, willing herself to calm down.

"In through the nose… out through the mouth…" she repeated, calming herself. "… breath…" It took her a few minutes but eventually, the impact of the fright faded. She was glad Gene didn't see that little moment. He wouldn't think that much of his supposed security.

She listened again. He was probably fast asleep by now. She had heard him moving about and the bath running earlier but there hadn't been a sound for about two hours or so. Deciding that the best thing to do would be to go to bed, she cleared up the sitting room. She made sure all doors and windows were secure and as quietly as she could, she got ready for bed. Soon, she was out like a light.

* * *

She slept solidly all night, not haunted by any dreams of clowns, green or white. Her travel alarm clock awoke her at 7:30am. She hopped out of bed and grabbed quick shower before Gene got up. When she was ready and dressed she went downstairs to get some breakfast started. Once that was on, she decided to call Gene. He didn't reply to her knocks on his bedroom door so she opened it, not exactly quietly either.

He was fast asleep, curled on his side, with the duvet wrapped tightly around him. She never got the opportunity to study him without those intense blue eye staring her down. Now, he didn't look anything like himself. Relaxed and peaceful were not words anyone would associate with him but that's exactly what he was right now.

It had been her intention to just shout at him to wake up but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Gene?" she said, giving him a gentle shake.

"Hummmm," came the very low rumble in reply.

"Time to get up." She reached down and gently stroked his cheek.

"Alex?" he muttered, covering her hand in his own and brushing his thumb across her knuckles.

"Yep," she agreed, smiling softly at his use of her name. "It's getting late."

"Whuh?"

"Wakey, wakey!"

He opened his eyes and focused on her after blinking a few times.

"Blimey!! _Bolly!!_ What are you doing here!?" he yelped, letting her hand go as if she had burnt him.

"You're going to be late. Get up!!" she repeated and then left the room, a little bit hurt. Alex had been in his dreams but not Bolly.

As she made her way back down the stairs a thought struck her. This real versus imaginary thing was turning out to include borderline schizophrenia too. Great. That was just _great_.

She ate her breakfast looking out the back window at the bare garden. He kept the grass under control but there wasn't that much else growing. A few weeds had sprung up around the fence. That was it.

"I don't have the time to be putterin' around out there," came his voice from right behind her, making her jump. "Sorry 'bout earlier. Wasn't quite awake."

"It's fine," she said. "Forget it. Do you want tea or coffee?"

"Coffee please," he said, moving awkwardly away from her. He placed his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and draped his tie over it.

There was a rattle and a thud from the hall and, looking out towards the front door, Alex went to retrieve the morning paper.

Gene pushed his way in front of her. "_Stop_! What is it?"

"The paper," she said, bending to pick it up and gave him a strange look.

"Oh! Oh… flamin' 'ell…" he muttered, running his hands through his hair, and went back into the kitchen.

Alex knew what was wrong. He was staring out the window at the garden again. "Gene?" she asked, placing a hand softly on his back.

He flinched and then moved out of her reach.

"So, which of the Tosserin' Two is on babysittin' duty tonight then?" he asked, busying himself with the cornflakes.

"Gene, we need to talk," she said, ignoring his diversionary question. "You disappeared last night bef-"

He looked at her like she had two heads. "Oh you are JOKIN' me!" he exploded. "I got enough of this shite off the missus! I do NOT need it from you!!"

"Take it easy," she said calmly. "I didn't explain myself clearly eno-"

"Terrific!" he clapped his hands. "Here we go again. Stupid ol' Gene can't keep up with your clever clogs bullshit."

She wasn't taking the bait. In fact, he was proving her theory for her. His problem was that he was genuinely worried and upset about this case and he didn't want anyone to see that. But primarily, he didn't want _anyone_ near him in case anything should happen. He was trying to protect her, and everyone else he knew, by keeping them at arms length. Preferably further.

But she couldn't just blurt that out or he would deny it and stomp off. Plus, he didn't realise that wherever he was, she was going to be right there too. For the first time, maybe ever, Gene Hunt needed someone else.

So she sipped her coffee before replying. "My clever clogs bullshit is telling me that you're only looking out for me. That you don't want me, Ray, Chris or indeed, anyone else, within a ten mile radius of _your_ arse in case someone decides to send a bomb your way. So don't give me that crap about Ray and his curry and Chris talking about Shaz. You forget Guv – we're a team. And as a team we stick even closer together in times like this. So you can treat me like I'm radioactive. You can bark at Ray and scare Chris. But we'll still be here. It's where we want to be and frankly, it's _exactly_ what you would do if the situation was reversed. Comprende?" she finished with a cheeky little smile at him.

Gene was leaning on the worktop, biting his lip. "You've got a smart mouth on you Bolly," he said grudgingly. "But luckily for you, you've got a smart brain to back up all that clap trap you've just said. A ten mile radius of my arse indeed… 'ow did you pick up on that?"

"It's what I do."

"Psychology."

"_Exactly_. And anyway… you've got a nice arse. Wouldn't want to see anything happen it."

"You cheeky tart you!!" he smiled.

Alex grinned back at him. Gene hardly ever smiled. It was nice to see it. "You'll be okay. We'll figure out who wrote that note, and why, and then… life will go on as normal, I suppose."

He surprised her by reaching out and gently placing one of his hands over hers again, like the way he had done earlier this morning. He didn't say anything but just waited. Alex, studying their hands, intertwined her fingers with his.

"I've got your back on this one Gene. Promise," she said, looking up at him.

"Oh good! That's me back _and_ me arse well covered then!" he said with a mischievous twinkle.

"And if you're _very_ lucky, we'll see what we can do about the rest of you," she shot back, giving as good as she got.

Forget smiling; he outright laughed at that one.

* * *

That morning was one of the busiest morning in CID that Alex had ever experienced. Ray had the security timetable finished and she had to admit he had done a good job. Chris had the codename for the Operation – Operation Wing.

"_Wing_?" scoffed Gene. "Why? 'Cause it's run by a bird?"

Shaz shot him a dirty look and Alex rolled her eyes. "Only you would jump to that conclusion," she replied through gritted teeth. "It's Wing because we're down to W in the codename list, all right?"

There was a chorus of "oooo" from the male officers and a few sniggers.

"Can we please move on and leave the playground antics for another time?" she barked, wheeling the whiteboard out.

She took CID through everything they knew so far and explained about keeping this Operation quiet. "We're not sure if this is a genuine threat or not. So until we are, nobody says _anything_ to anybody. I mean it. Not a word about evidence or security or bomb sweeps. Nothing. Is that clear?"

Another chorus this time but now it was of "Yes Ma'ams". Alex dismissed everyone and Gene took his feet down from her desk.

"Sounds like you've got this one under control Bolls," he said, getting up. "I suppose Branch'll be 'ere later?"

"Crane said he would call over. Let us know what they've managed to uncover."

"Won't be much, I'll bet," he muttered and then headed for his office.

He was right. Special Branch had discovered nothing. Indeed, this was the way it progressed for over a month. In fact, it appeared as if there was nothing to investigate at all. Special Branch had failed to turn up any leads or any new evidence. There was no link between any of Gene's prior arrests and the IRA. There were no further threats and nothing out of the ordinary was noted by any of Gene's security detail.

Ray had done the most "babysitting" time, followed by Chris and Alex with the same amount each. Gene was, by now, used to having them around the house. After the first week, he had tidied up his storeroom upstairs, and turned it back into a bedroom so that he had a "girls room" and "boys room" depending on who was staying. The store was a room where he had dumped a lot of his stuff after the move from Manchester.

* * *

Going through it was a painful task, most of it his own making. For the move, he had just stuffed his belongings into boxes and didn't give any thought to organisation. So everything was everywhere. Then there were mementos scattered through it from old life and from his marriage. And from Sam. He came across Tyler's notebook and he took it into work with him. It now rested on the shelf behind his desk, along with his cowboy hat which Bolly had the "good grace" to rescue after she chucked it on the street. Anyway, Sam's notebook was now in his office. Gene was happy about that for some reason.

As he sorted through the last of the boxes, he kept a watchful eye out for other items belonging to Sam but he didn't find any. Instead, he found a small, soft bag and as soon as he saw it he almost started to cry. He couldn't even bring himself to open it and he started frantically searching through box after box, looking for something else. Eventually he gave up and sat on the floor, back against the wall, holding the little bag in his hands, forearms resting on his knees.

That's where Alex found him about half an hour later.

"Gene?" she asked, peering around the door. "Ray is bringing over food from Luigi's and will be here…in… Gene? What is it?" She asked the question softly, seeing that whatever it was, he was obviously quite upset. She crouched down beside him and he didn't even try to hide his face or ask her to leave.

He rubbed at his tired eyes. He hadn't shed so much a tear but his eyes were burning nevertheless.

"It… were a long time ago Bolls but… some things just never leave a man quite the same." His eyes sought out hers and almost reluctantly, he handed her the bag. "Open it."

She took the bag which had a soft, fleecy feel to it, and did as he asked. Inside was some material that she took out and instantly recognised. A tiny pink baby grow.

"It's the only thing I have that she wore. My Janey. I have one photo and one book, both of which I can't even poxin' find. The wife has everything else. Three things. None of which I even…" Gene stopped and swallowed. "I never forgot 'er though. Things are things. She'll always be in me 'ead. And me 'eart."

Alex wiped at her eyes and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and taking his hand in hers. "She was your daughter," she whispered.

"She was. Poor little mite. Only lived for two weeks. We 'ad brought her 'ome from the 'ospital and she seemed to be fine. Bit small maybe. Anyway, one mornin', I went in to check on 'er before I left fer work… and… and… Well. She were gone. Major 'eart defect they said. Died in 'er sleep."

Tears rolled freely down Alex's face now and she gripped his hand. She didn't even want to imagine what that must have been like. To find that your presumably healthy baby had died. She couldn't help it as a small sob escaped. She pictured Molly, rosy cheeked and dimpled in her cot. What a dreadful, dreadful thing to happen.

Gene had sworn to himself, years ago, that he would never cry again over Jane, so when he felt tears welling up he swallowed them back determinedly.

"I am _not_ sittin' 'ere bawlin' like a big Jessie," he said in a hoarse voice as he got to his feet. "She wouldn't want that. Come on Bolls. Up yer get." He bent down and gently hauled Alex to her feet. She stood in his arms and then hugged him close. Gene responded and buried his face in her curls, breathing in her scent.

"Come with me," she whispered eventually, taking his hand again and leading him downstairs to the sitting room, the baby grow and bag still clutched in her hand. He watched her, puzzled, as she headed straight to the bookcase and withdrew a book. _The_ book.

"Jane Eyre," she said, handing the book to him. "I found it the first night I was here and I thought it belonged to your wife. But…"

Gene took the book from her in amazement, delight filling his face. "I got it for her. She was born on Christmas Eve. The wife called her Jane because of this book. It was 'er favourite– I dunno. Poncey book this I reckon. Anyway, she was also called Jane because it sounded like me name. When I saw the book in the gift shop I just had to get it for her. And look…" he stopped and opened the book in the middle. "The photo."

The photo was of a younger Gene holding the baby in his arms and looking as proud as punch.

"It's not a great one of her 'cause ye can't see that much but ye can see that she were tiny. Barely the length of me forearm."

Alex smiled as she looked at the picture. "You certainly were the proud Dad."

"I was. I still am," he replied looking at the photograph fondly again. "Thanks for finding this Bolly. I can't believe it's been there all along. I must've put it in with all me books for the move and the removal lads just lumped the lot onto the shelves as you see it. Didn't sort it all out yet."

A car horn beeped outside and Alex left him to go out to Ray. She got their food and Ray left in a hurry; a nurse was waiting for him. He had noticed Alex's smudged eye makeup and only hoped that she and the Guv hadn't had yet _another_ barney over something stupid.

By the time she got back, Gene had taken the book, photo and baby grow up to his room. He joined her in the kitchen after a few minutes and helped her set the table. As she reached for the glasses he caught a glimpse of her eyes.

He turned her around to face him. "I can't be 'aving dinner with you looking like this. C'mere." He gently held her face between his hands and wiped at the streaks of makeup on her cheeks with his thumbs. It only made it worse and he couldn't help but smile. "What is this bloody stuff made of then? Friggin' tar?" he asked, letting her go and examining his now blue and black thumbs.

Alex laughed and excused herself. She ran up to "her" room and rummaged about for eye makeup remover. In the bathroom, she did a double take at herself in the mirror. God, what a mess! Deciding it would be quicker just to take all her make up off she grabbed some cotton wool and gave her face a good scrub. 1980's makeup was horrible – all thick and cakey. It would be a relief just to let her skin breath for an evening. She tied her hair back and then looked at herself again.

2008 Alex Drake looked back at her. Hair tied back, no makeup, rather prim and proper. She took a closer look – yep, great. One or two spots from all the makeup and her freckles were more obvious. If her hair was straight she would back to her old self exactly. She shrugged. Sod it. What did it matter now?

"_Bolly_! You nearly done fartin' about up there!? Grub's getting' cold!!" hollered Gene from downstairs and she laughed.

One minute he had her in tears and was so gentle, the next, he was back to himself. Roaring and rude. Still laughing to herself, she put all her bits and pieces back in her room and then ran lightly down the stairs and joined him in the kitchen.

* * *

They had a nice dinner, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. She knew he didn't want to broach the subject of Jane again and by keeping up a general conversation, she let him know that she wouldn't mention her either. He was grateful for that – talking about Jane even after all this time would be too hard. He had never done it and didn't intend to start now.

What happened was in the past and his memories of his daughter were all he had. So he guarded them closely. He liked Alex a lot, had even become accustomed to having her around, but this was one subject which he wasn't comfortable discussing. He had noticed that she was the same about her daughter – nary a mention of her or where she was.

Gene had long ago suspected that something was as bit suspect with Alex's story. After all, how long was a kid supposed to wait for her birthday party? Gene was a copper and his copper's nous was telling him that there was something up. He wasn't going to push the issue but he knew what it was like to be a grieving parent. He figured that maybe she'd tell him in due course and that was fine with him. It was fine with him even if she didn't. Talking about kids was not his thing.

She noticed he had been rather quiet over the past few minutes so she filled the pause by clearing the table. Then, they took the bottle of wine into the sitting room and sat together on the couch, with the television prattling away in the corner. Alex limited herself to one glass of wine a night when she was on duty and while Gene complained that she wasn't much fun, he was also appreciated the gesture. She had imposed the "one glass" rule on Chris and Ray too, who found it a lot harder to take. Ray shocked face popped into Gene's mind and he smiled to himself.

When he had seen enough of Dallas or Dynasty or whatever it was she was watching, he decided he should go to bed. They said goodnight and he paused at the door.

"Bolls?"

She looked up at him with a questioning smile.

"I'm glad you know about 'er but… I ehh…" he shuffled his feet. He didn't want to have to ask her.

"Nobody else will ever know," she said, knowing what he wanted. "Nobody."

"I 'preciate that," he replied softly and then gave her a wink. "Night Bolls. You sleep well and don't stay there watchin' crap all night, sure ye won't?"

"I won't," she grinned. "But it's just getting to a good bit now so-"

"By good, you mean sexy, so I'm outta 'ere," he finished with a grimace and a wink. Then he made himself scarce. He took some case files from the hall with him along with some arrest diaries. He meant to do them earlier that day but, what with one thing and another, he forgot.

He flopped down on his bed, pen in hand, and scrawled his way through the paper work. Very faintly, in the background, he could hear the television. He had to admit, he was getting used to having folk around him. Specifically, he was getting used to Alex and knowing she was around made him… not happy exactly but… happy-ish. Yeah. Happy-ish. Happy. Whichever.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door.

"Wot are you smiling at, Smiler?" he said, scowling at himself and then he bit back a laugh.

Who the hell knew that being mental was contagious?


	5. Chapter 5

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Thank you all so much for incredibly kind reviews. Thanks also to RushholmeRuffian for her listening ear. I hope you all continue to enjoy the read.

* * *

December moved slowly and there was still nothing further of interest to Operation Wing. If it hadn't been for the constant security and checks on the Quattro, Gene would have forgotten all about it. Until the post arrived in the office on Christmas Eve. He had ignored the pile of post for as long as he could but eventually, he tackled it with a long-suffering sigh. He made his three customary piles; Stuff for Granger to file; Stuff for Bolly to figure out; Stuff that only requires me John Hancock. He whittled his way through the pile, tossing papers where they needed to go until he got to the packages. Normally, these would be evidence, samples or file bundles so he wasn't expecting much else as he ripped the paper off one.

"Well… shit…" he muttered, dropping a large matchbox onto his desk. "CARLING! GET IN 'ERE!!"

Ray peered around the door. "Guv?"

Gene motioned for him to come in. "Close the door."

Ray did as he was asked, wondering what was up. He decided he make a pre-emptive move.

"It weren't me Guv. I-"

"Shut up!" barked Gene and pushed the box towards him. "Wot do yer make of this?"

Ray took the matchbox in his hand and tipped out the content. Singular. One assault rifle bullet. "Fuck…"

"Yeah."

"Were did it come from?"

"'Ow would I know, Genius? It came in the post," sighed Gene. "'Appy fuckin' Christmas, eh?"

"Do yer still have the wrapper?"

Gene nodded and handed it over.

"I'll get forensics on it," said Ray, not sure what else he could say.

"Don't bother," muttered Gene, sitting on the desk. "That package has been through the Royal Mail. Fuck knows what's been near it or 'oo touched it. Could 'ave picked up the friggin' clap for all we know."

Ray put the wrappings back on the desk and surreptitiously wiped his hand on his trousers. "No postmark?"

"Nothin'," replied Gene, rubbing a hand over his eyes in frustration. "Can you believe it? A fuckin' bullet. FUCK!!" And with that, a whiskey tumbler went flying through the air and crashed straight through the glass in the door.

The crash and the glass shattering made everyone in the outer office jump to their feet. Gene flung the door open, crunched over the glass and stormed out, shouting he was going up to the roof for some air and if anyone joined him, they'd be rapidly pitched over the edge. Ray motioned for Chris to follow and whispered to keep out of harms way.

CID was agog and at first, everyone presumed that Ray had done something. He held up his hands in innocence and moving into the outer office filled them in.

"The DI isn't goin' to like this one bit," said Shaz, examining the bullet. "Where is she?"

"Guv let her use the car to collect a statement off that ol' bat who 'ad 'er flat burgled yesterday," explained Ray. "She should be back soon. You can tell 'er." He figured he had experienced more that his fair share of action for the day.

"I will _not_!" protested Shaz, handing the bullet to Barlow.

"I'm not telling her!" he cried. "She'll go ballistic!! Oh… no pun intended lads."

"Yer all a pack of divs," sighed Ray, taking the bullet from Barlow. Then he smiled. "I know! The Guv'll tell 'er!"

"Well, someone should tell her and soon," said Viv from the doorway, altered by Chris as to what had happened. "She's on her way in. Parking in the garage as we speak."

Ray's shoulders sagged. "Oh Christ. I'll bloody do it then. Shazzer? Get someone to clear that shit up would yer?" He jerked his thumb at the mess of glass on the floor and went to meet Alex on her way in.

He moved swiftly along the corridors and saw Alex coming. He pushed open a set of doors for her. "Afternoon Ma'am."

"Hi Ray. I was wonder-"

"Ma'am… 'ang about. We err… we… 'ave a bit of a situation."

"What happened?" she said, knowing immediately it had something to do with Operation Wing.

"'E got sent an assault rifle bullet. I bet it's a .22."

"And that would be calibre for what gun?" she asked, knowing that Ray really did know a thing or two about ballistics.

"Typically… the Armalite AR-18."

"Let me guess; the preferred rifle of choice for the IRA?" she asked with a sigh.

Ray nodded. "Looks that way. We should send it to ballistics for confirmation though."

"Soon. I want to see it first."

"Okay. 'E… uh… 'e went up to the roof for a breather. Chris followed but, for 'is own safety, 'e is staying out o' strikin' distance."

"Okay. Thanks Ray. What did you do with the bullet?"

"It's still in CID. Didn't bother with foren-"

"If it came in the post there'd be nothing they could detect. Okay, collect all the wrappings for me anyway, would you please? I'll go and talk to him." She gave Ray a grim smile and made her way up the flights of stairs until she got to the door to the roof. Chris was standing there, with the door ajar, watching Gene smoke cigarette after cigarette.

"Thanks Chris. I'll take over now," she said, reaching for the door handle.

"'E said not to go out-"

"I know. It'll be fine." She sent Chris back down to the office and then, taking a deep breath, opened the door.

* * *

"Piss off!" came his angry command.

"Gene?" He had his back to her and didn't turn around.

"Bolly, I think even you can understand two simple words. Now, piss o- what are you _doing_, you dozy cow?" he spluttered as Alex leaned precariously over the edge.

"Just checking the fire escape," she replied, moving to get a better look but Gene hauled her back.

"Don't lean out so bloody far," he said, glowering at her. "You think the Provos are lyin' in wait down there, do ye?"

"I was just checking the fire escape," she repeated, calmly.

Gene shook his head. There was no point in getting into it with her. "You 'eard then?"

She nodded. "I think we should have all your post checked from n-"

"Yeah. Course ye do," he said bitterly and took another long drag of his cigarette.

Alex said nothing and kicked aimlessly at a fag end on the ground.

Gene flicked the remnants of his cigarette over the side of the building and heaved a huge sigh. Leaning heavily on the guardrail, his head dropped and shoulders slumped. A man defeated.

Alex couldn't stand to see it. "There was always the possibility that it would get worse before it got better."

He sighed and took the packet of cigarettes out from his jacket pocket. It was just the box; he'd smoked them all. "Not my fuckin' day, is it?" he sighed again, and tossed the empty packet over the side of the building also.

Alex gave him a look.

He rolled his eyes and growled at her to shut it before extracting a hip flask, which also turned out to be empty. "Oh fer FUCK SAKE!!" he cried and leaning back, he was about to throw the flask when her arm shot out and caught his wrist.

"If you throw that you'll hurt someone. Give it to me," she said sternly, and wrestled the flask from his grasp.

"Alex, you are _REALLY_ pissing me off," he said, snatching it back from her with a dangerous look in his eyes. "Just clear off and leave me alone. Go do your job."

"I'm not leaving you," she replied, steadfast. "Not up here."

"_I just want ten fuckin' minutes to meself!!"_ he shouted at her, really angry now, particularly as she was so calm. "_GO!_"

"If you want me to go you're going to have make me," she replied, looking him straight in the eye.

They were almost nose-to-nose and Gene, taking a small step back, gave her the full wattage glare.

Alex didn't budge an inch. "Go ahead," she said impudently.

"Don't you friggin' start wi' me luv. Not today."

She raised an eyebrow and repeated herself, jutting her chin out. "Go ahead," she repeated. "Make me."

He stared her down for a few moments, blue eyes blazing and then suddenly, he flung himself away from her.

His sudden movement caught Alex unawares and she shrank back with a tiny gasp. That little gasp didn't go unnoticed by Gene and he spun around just in time to see her arm drop to her side, as if it had been raised defensively.

"What the fuck was _that_!?" he shouted at her.

"What!?" she exclaimed, genuinely confused.

"Yer arm!" he spat. "Jesus Christ!! Ye thought I would…"

She saw what he was getting at and her eyes widened in understanding. "No! No – I didn't!"

"Yes, yer did," he contradicted. "Yeah – ye thought I was about to haul off an' belt yer one. Right across that pretty face o' yers. Didn't ye? _Didn't ye!?_" he cried, feeling a whole mixture of anger, sadness and revulsion.

"I was only startled," she said calmly. "I knew you wouldn't. If I thought any different I wouldn't have been within your personal boundary nor would I have antagon-"

"Oh would you just _STOP_ with the hippy psycho-babble bullshit," he interrupted, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. "STOP!"

Alex fell silent, hoping that he had now faced the reality of his situation. That he could talk about it and stop throwing tantrums, and things, like a child. It was one of his worst faults. When things started to get out of his control then he would do anything to try and seize that control again. That included ranting, shouting, thumping, kicking, screaming and gouging. She would put any amount of money that something / someone had been kicked or broken in the CID offices. Why else would Chris have been lurking around the door, afraid to even put his nose outside?

Gene was now leaning on the guardrail again, his back towards her, breathing deeply. Minutes passed before he spoke.

"Ye still there?"

"Yes."

He lifted his head, exhaling loudly. "It's Christmas Eve. 'Ave ye got nothin' better to do wi' yer time?"

"No."

He turned around to face her, his face deadly serious. "I would never_, EVER_ lay a finger on you or any wo-"

"Gene – I know," she interrupted desperately. "I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry that you got the wrong impression. You just startled me when you moved away like that. That's all. I promise."

"I jus' wanted to be left alone," he said quietly. "Jus' fer today."

"Everyone wants to celebrate Christmas with family and friends. I know that. I also know that having someone around you all the time is getting on your nerves and that Christm-"

"Alex, _please_ be quiet," he said, almost civilly. "It's Christmas Eve."

She nodded, managing to keep the exasperation off her face. What did he keep banging on about Christmas for? He had already made it abundantly clear that he couldn't stand this time of year and had moaned and gripped about nothing else for the past week. Yes, getting a bullet in the post on… Christmas… Eve…

She raised her eyes to his and understanding flashed between them. Without another word she went straight over to him and hugged him as hard as she could. Gene held her tightly in his arms and rested his head on her shoulder.

"My little girl would've been 13 today," he said eventually. "Fancy that. A teenager. I'll tell you wot Bolls. 13 years ago… 'appiest day o' me life. Today? Nothin' but fuckin' misery. So getting a bullet in the post was just the icing on the Christmas cake."

"Oh Gene," she sighed and caressed his cheek gently in what was now a familiar gesture for both of them. "You're too young to be this sad."

"I'm not sad," he protested, "I'm jus' worn out."

"You're too young for that too."

He gave bark of laughter. "Too young to be old and too old to be young, 'ey?"

"You're too old for what?" she asked softly.

"Lots o' things Bolly. Lot's o' things," he replied, looking down at her.

Sirens wailed from the street below them and Gene peered over the edge.

"Someone's been a bad boy," he remarked as uniform bundled a young man up the steps.

"It won't be a great Christmas for him either," she replied, her arms still around him.

Gene gave one of those half smiles of his. "Nope. The cells are full of sick, thanks to the late night Christmas party revellers who decided it'd be fun to 'ave a go at kickin' Hamley's window in."

"Guv! Ma'am!" came Shaz's voice from the stairs.

They sprang apart just before Shaz hesitantly called again from the doorway.

"Wot is it Granger?" he asked, clearing his throat.

Shaz sensed she had interrupted a "moment" but figured it would be more than her life was worth to even acknowledge it. "Guv, uniform have brought in a bloke who had 30 bags of cocaine in the boot of his car!"

"Right – we're on it. C'mon Bolls," he said, back to his old self immediately and held the door open for her.

* * *

Shaz smiled at her as she passed by and followed her down the stairs with Gene last. On arrival in CID Alex immediately saw the damage to his door and knew her instinct had been right. He either slammed it so hard he shattered the glass or-

"Whiskey glass slipped out of me 'and with considerable force," he said, with a grim smile. "Right Ray! Wot's the story with this bloke then?"

Ray filled them in on what he knew and then between them they decided what to do.

"Bolls, you've got enough on yer plate and the moment. I'll head this one up. C'mon Raymondo. Let's get this one started – we've got a knees up to get to this evenin'!"

They exited the office and Alex saw that Ray had already left the bullet, matchbox and wrappings in evidence bags on her desk. She smiled to herself. Ray was really coming into his own of late. A drugs bust was exactly what the team needed now. It would let Gene focus on something other than the bullet and would give Ray and Chris a chance to multitask.

Two big cases running concurrently with different officers in charge would soon highlight what type of detectives they were. Alex was convinced that it was Gene's controlling personality that held his team back. Now, she had a say in what they did and she was determined to make the most of it. She wanted to work well with Ray and to help Chris.

She had big plans for Chris. It was about time he shook off his massive inferiority complex. But before any of that could happen, she switched her attention to the task at hand and examined the bullet carefully. It seemed genuine enough, if a little bit… shiny. Almost as if someone had it his or her possession for quite some time.

"Chris, pass me the magnifier please. The big one," she said, examining the bullet even closer.

Chris handed it to her. "What is it Ma'am?"

"This bullet… look underneath here. Do you see that dent?"

He took the bullet and magnifying glass, looking at it closely as Alex had done. "Yeah – right in the centre. Well, it's a bit off-centre, but it's there."

"And what would that normally mean?"

"I… uhh… I dunno…" he replied.

"'Course you do," she encouraged. "Tell me. If you saw that, what would you think? Forget about what's in front of you. Just look at the dent and tell me."

"Well, I'd say… if I just saw this bit of a bullet, mind… that it 'ad been fired."

"_Exactly_!" she beamed at him. "What's that dent?"

"It's where the firin' pin makes contact with the primer," he answered, feeling more confident. "But this 'ere bullet is still intact. I mean, we're lookin' at the whole thing, not jus' the casing. It 'asn't been fired."

She nodded and took the bullet from him. "I know what we're looking at but what if…" she looked through her desk drawer. "Damn. Shaz have we got any pliers in here? I could've sworn they were in here…" she trailed off, and rummaged through anther drawer.

"Yeah, I think so Ma'am," said Shaz, getting up and looking through the top drawer of Ray's desk. "Here you go! I saw Ray fix his desk lamp with them," she explained and handed them over.

"Great. Thanks," Alex smiled. "Okay, watch."

"MA'AM!! _What are ye doin'!?"_ cried Chris, jumping back from her desk. Alex had the top part of the bullet gripped in the pliers and was trying to twist it out of the casing.

"Chris, you said so yourself. This bullet has been fired," she explained, setting the tool down.

"I don't give a toss!! Look at the size of it! If yer wrong, it could blow yer bloody 'ead off!" he creid in horror, still standing over near Ray's desk.

"I'm not wrong," she replied and took up the pliers again. "I thought it looked odd at the beginning and now I know it is. This is a dud. It's not live."

Chris spoke very calmly, as if he was trying to talk a nutter into surrendering her gun. "Ma'am? That's a very plausible theory, yeah? But 'ow's about we just wait until Ray and the Guv get back. Or better yet, let ballistics take it apart. It probably is a dud but it _might_ not be. That firing pin mark is not all that prominent. Right? Huh?"

Alex put the pliers down. "It's a dud," she repeated, "But maybe it would be better to let the right people do the job."

"'Course it is Ma'am," said Shaz, peering around the wall to the kitchen area.

"You can come out now Shaz," smiled Alex, handing the pliers to Chris. "Panic over!"

Shaz gave her a weak smile and Chris took his seat again, keeping the pliers safely in his pocket.

"Okay, forget the bullet for a moment. Look at the address on this wrapping here," Alex said, holding it out to Chris. "That's odd too, right?"

"Well, the writin' is terrible and the address is wrong. DCI Gene Hunt… errr, something, something… is that supposed to be London Metropolitan Police?" he asked Alex who nodded.

"I think so. But whoever wrote it also sent it to Scotland Yard who subsequently redirected it here. Now why would someone go to the trouble of sending Ge- the Guv a bullet in the post but not send it here?"

"Because they think 'e works in headquarters?" offered Chris, not really sure what Alex wanted him to say now.

"That's what I think," said Alex, taking the wrapper from him. "There aren't that many DCI Gene Hunts around so it's a safe bet that this package would end up on the Guv's desk, even if you weren't sure about where he worked."

"But that's just weird," said Shaz, trying to put it all together. "What does it mean?"

"Wot does wot mean, Granger?" asked Gene from the doorway.

"Oh Guv!! Thank goodness yer back," exclaimed Chris, jumping to his feet and peering around Gene. "Is Ray 'ere?"

"Do ye want a hug or summat?" replied Gene, taken aback at Chris's enthusiastic welcome. "Sit down, ye big fairy!"

Alex smothered a laugh, "It's okay Guv. He was just trying to save me from blowing my head off."

Gene looked at her incredulously. "Wot the bloody 'ell… blowin' yer 'ead… _WOT_?"

"'Oo's blowin' their 'ead off?" asked Ray, catching the tail end of the conversation as he came through the doors.

"No one friggin' is," growled Gene, glaring at Alex. "Ye want to explain yerself?"

Alex and Chris explained what had been going on and soon both Gene and Ray were examining the bullet and the wrappings.

"I do believe yer right, Bolls," said Gene, scrutinising the bottom of the casing again. "It's been fired."

"Give us the pliers then," said Ray holding out his hand to Chris.

Chris shook his head. "Shouldn't we call ballistics to-"

"Not if we want an answer this effin' year," replied Ray. "Give us!"

Very reluctantly, Chris withdrew the pliers from his pocket and handed it to Ray. "Careful mate."

"Relax you twonk. I've done this more times than I've farted," boasted Ray.

"Both activities equally likely to blow someone's 'ead off," said Gene, catching Alex's eye as guffaws erupted from the assembled officers.

She snorted with laughter and Gene winked at her, their private joke acknowledged. Nobody else even noticed the silent communication between them.

"Too right Guv!" said Ray above the laughter, unashamedly proud. "'Specially after a plate of Luigi's meatballs, wot?"

"We'll discuss the silent but deadly nature of yer farts at a later date Raymondo, _if_ ye don't mind," said Gene, eager to move on. "Now, crack that bullet for us and let's see if Bolly Knickers 'ere is right."

Ray obliged and was just about to start when Alex moved and took the cigarette from his lips.

"Just in _case_ there's any gunpowder left," she said, rolling her eyes. Honestly!

Ray gave her a look but nevertheless, didn't make a fuss. He carefully began twisting the top of the bullet, trying to free it from the casing. It moved slightly.

"Easy mate," said Chris taking a step back. He felt the eyes of CID on him so he took a step forward again. "Errr… carry on."

Ray twisted the bullet again and this time it moved more. He kept going and gradually, separated the bullet from the casing. Everyone leaned forward for a closer look.

It was empty. Not a trace of gunpowder.

"Curiouser and curiouser," muttered Gene, taking the separated parts from Ray.

"A reassembled bullet," mused Alex. "And it looks like an old one at that. Why would someone send you that and not even send it to your correct address?"

"You're the profiler, Bolly," he said, switching his attention to the wrapper and handing her the bits of bullet. "I 'aven't the foggiest."

"The only link between Operation Wing and this package is that this bullet is used in assault rifles the IRA frequently use," she mused out loud. "So, if we assume that this package is connected with the person who wrote the message in the programme… then we could also assume that whoever did it, really doesn't have the connections to the IRA that they would have us believe. They don't even know where you're stationed."

Gene looked at her thoughtfully. "That's a lot of assumptions."

She nodded slowly, knowing what he said was true but there was something about the bullet which made her think that she might be right. It was like a trophy. Something someone almost treasured but also something that the sender was willing to sacrifice in order to scare Gene.

"I don't like it when yer thinkin' like that Bolls. Speak up!" he ordered.

"I'm thinking that you're right. We can't make those assumptions. Let me work on it for a while and in the meantime, we carry on with all of the precautions we've put in place."

There were nods all around the room.

"Good then," said Gene clapping his hands together. "Right. Drugs bust. Let me fill yer all in."

He proceeded to give the details about the drugs case but Alex wasn't really listening. The details about the bullet were whirling in her head and she just wanted some peace and quiet to work it all out. It didn't make sense. A dud bullet incorrectly addressed? Why? _Why_?

"Why wot?" asked Gene, staring at her, as were a good few other people.

Alex blanched. She didn't realise she just spoke aloud. "Errr… nothing. I was just thinking. About the bullet."

Gene gave her one of those searching looks of his. When Alex got to thinking like this he always got anxious. As did everyone else. Who the hell knew what she'd be liable to come out with next?

"Well, _I_ was thinkin' why are we still 'ere?" he said, changing the topic of conversation. "Luigi's and the Christmas booze up is awaitin', lads! Let us make 'aste. Pronto. Now. GO!" he hollered, to cheers of approval.

People milled about, getting into jackets and coats and Gene went into his office to pack up. Alex felt… awful. Molly had made Christmas bearable in recent years. Previous to Molly's birth, Alex also had reason to hate Christmas. Everyone with family. With their Mum and Dad.

Now she was on her own again.

She stared at the desk and didn't even notice people as they filed out the door.

"C'mon Bolly. Shift. Can't wait around fer ye all night," said Gene, knocking on her desk, with Ray standing impatiently in the background.

Alex jumped and looked up at him. He immediately saw the tears in her eyes and a concerned look flashed across his face. Alex blinked the tears back. "Oh! No – you go. I'll follow you down in about an hour."

"Ye sure?" he asked, knowing that something was up.

"Sure," she smiled but her eyes were still sad. "Go. Enjoy. And Ray?"

"Yeah, I know," he grumped. "One drink."

She gave him the thumbs up sign and he trudged over to the door, holding it open for Gene who walked through without so much as a backwards glance at Alex.

She heard their footsteps fade and an eerie silence settled over CID. It had never been so quiet.

And she had never been so alone.

* * *

An hour passed, followed by another and Alex was still musing over the bullet and the wrappings. She had redrawn the case on another white board, making everything neat and colour coding their different "lines of enquiry". The previous board had been scribbled on by everyone and was beginning to look unintelligible. It was something she was going to have to do anyway and now, it helped to organise her thoughts.

Everything pointed to the fact that someone was just trying to frighten Gene. It had worked, initially, but now… now it just seemed like someone with a grudge. Someone who wasn't well educated and had trouble writing, unless that was a disguise.

Alex shook her head. No, whoever sent this knew Gene but didn't know _enough_ about him to make it really work. No way was this IRA but alas, she couldn't prove that. Until she could prove it, then they would have to assume it was a genuine threat.

She drew another arrow across the diagram. Linking Gene and the bullet back to the initial warning message. Eugene. Old name, old bullet – one that had been used before and carefully reassembled making it harmless. She drummed her fingers on the desk. It. Didn't. Make. Sense.

She huffed in annoyance. She was only killing time here because she knew she didn't want to go to the Christmas party, considering that she wasn't overflowing with the joy of the Christmas spirit this year. On the other hand, it had been a worse day for Gene and he still went. She snorted. Of course he still went! There would be as much booze as he could handle.

* * *

Alex collected her jacket and slowly made her way to Luigi's. She had to go, she reasoned with herself. It was the right thing to do even though she would much rather crawl into bed and stay there. As was now expected, she heard Luigi's before she saw it. Christmas carols were being belted out and naturally, not with the original lyrics. Alex rolled her eyes. O holy shite, indeed.

"Thought you weren't goin' to show," came a gruff voice from the shadows near the stairwell.

She smiled. Gene. "Wasn't planning to but figured if you could handle it then…" she trailed off and shrugged. "It's Christmas. _You_ may hate it and _I_ may hate it but it's best not to be a kill-joy."

Gene acknowledged the truth of her statement by a wave of his cigarillo in her direction accompanied by a one sided grin.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Came out for some fresh air. It's like a furnace in there," he replied, taking another long drag.

"Oh," she replied and then her eyes went wide in a moment of realisation. "Where's Ray!?"

"Evenin' Ma'am" came Ray's voice from almost directly behind her, making her jump.

"_Jesus_!! Ray!!" she cried in fright. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"I was right in front of the Christmas tree! 'Ow could yer miss me?" he said, rather hurt.

In truth, with his permed hair and… robust figure, Ray had blended in perfectly with the potted tree outside Luigi's, being almost the exact same shape.

"Quite easily," she said, coming up with the perfect answer. "You were hidden in plain sight. You're getting good at this security business Ray!" She gave him her most winning smile.

Ray fell for it. "Thanks Ma'am," he beamed. "Although I 'ave to say… first party in 15 year that I-"

"Oh I can't _go_ this anymore!" sighed Gene loudly. "That's wot? The fiftieth time you've mentioned it? Raymondo, go an' get pissed. Bolly 'ere will take over."

"No Guv! No – don't mind me," protested Ray, now feeling bad over his bellyaching. "I'm moanin' over nothin'. Seriously, I'm fine. Go an' 'ave a good night Ma'am." He gave Alex a genuine smile and moved to usher her down the stairs. Alex glanced at Gene and he gave her another fleeting grin as if to say, "Well, I tried."

They all went back into Luigi's and Alex discovered Gene was right. The place was simply packed and the heat was intolerable. She greeted a few colleagues, shouted a few words of greeting over the noise and gulped down a glass of red. It was getting hotter and hotter and she knew that she couldn't stay. Everyone was happy and drunk and looking forward to Christmas. She heard gleeful mentions of plans for Santa Claus, laughter, cheering, singing, cigarette smoke, heat, drink… she was going to pass out or throw up. No, she was going to do both. Frantically, she pushed her way through the throng and stumbled up the stairs, breathing the cold night air deeply. She waited until the sick feeling had left her and then, knowing she couldn't go back into the restaurant, she went up to her flat.

The thrum of noise could still be heard but Alex was grateful for the calmness in her flat as she leaned against the door. She knew exactly what was wrong. Christmas without Molly and God only knew how many more Christmases would be the same. All her ways home were now at an end. She knew it – had known it for quite some time. This was home now and in some ways she had accepted it. The loss of Molly was something she was only just beginning to come to realise.

* * *

She hung her jacket up and then sank onto the couch. She just wanted these few days to be over. Ray was going to be with Gene until Boxing Day so, theoretically, she could go to bed until the morning of the 26th, hoping that sleep would claim her and take away this lonely feeling for a good few hours. Thinking that it sounded like a plan, she decided to go and wash her hair followed by a long relaxing soak in the bath. She spent over two hours just taking it easy and letting thought and feelings about Molly fill her mind.

It was so rare that she got quiet times like this to herself without having to plan or do something for the next day. She needed it – almost craved it. Relaxing was an alien concept to her since her arrival in July. Five months of living in confusion, worry, dread, panic and punctuated by very few moments of relief and happiness… no wonder she was tired and edgy.

She wrapped herself in a big fluffy dressing gown she had bought in Harrods. The nylon frilly floral 1980's dressing gowns were still very much en vogue but the men's department in Harrods provided her with an almost perfect substitute for a bathrobe.

She opened a rather nice bottle of red wine, lit some candles and put some music on in the background. Then she stretched out on the couch and willed herself to relax. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even and slow.

When there was a knock on the door she just knew who it would be. Gene and Ray. Wearily, she got up and opened the door a fraction. Just Gene and no Ray.

"Wher-"

He held up a hand. "'E's waitin' at the foot o' stairs so I'm gonna be qui-cor blimey…" he looked her up and down appreciatively, taking in her relaxed look and slightly gaping bathrobe. "You look '_stremely_ shaggable."

Alex blushed and primly gathered the bathrobe tighter around her. "What is it Gene?"

"'M I innersnup… innerups… Got a bloke 'ere?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"No," she replied, rather coldly. He smelled like a brewery _and_ a tobacco factory. But for this night, she envied him the oblivion of alcohol.

"'Kay. Would've done this downstairs but ye dis'peared. All I jus' wanted ter say was… Thanks. For earlier. For rememberin' like. For everything ye've done," he said gruffly and rubbed at the back his neck. "Right. Night. See yer." He moved away from the door and walked down the corridor.

The next thing he knew a warm ball of fluff and curls ambushed him from behind and hugged him tightly. When she released him he spun around and caught her in an affectionate bear hug. She was in her bare feet and he lifted her up slightly so she could stand on his boot toes. Then leaning down, he gave her a tiny kiss.

"I know I'm pissed but I do mean wot I said," he said huskily. With that he carefully lifted her off his feet and clattered down the stairs to Ray, using the wall of the narrow staircase to help him keep his balance.

Alex stood in the corridor, completely stunned but with a huge smile on her face. He was pissed as a newt but he still wanted to say thanks. Probably had wanted to say it all day only he never got the chance to be alone with her after Shaz had interrupted them on the roof. It was all or nothing with Gene Hunt. You had his loyalty and respect or you did not. It was that simple. Knowing that she had made an impression on him and knowing that he didn't just think she was an infuriating pain in arse meant a lot to her.

She smiled as she made her way back to the flat. Best not get too carried away – wait and see what his opinion would be after the 10 pints had left his system. She laughed softly at the thought. He was going to have a HELL of a hangover tomorrow. She heard singing from the street and went to the window to investigate. There were some seriously rat-arsed coppers meandering up the road, tinsel wrapped around their heads and there, at the corner, was a taxi, Ray and Gene.

"Come _on_ Guv!" encouraged Ray. "Get in."

"Jus' bloody WAIT will yer!… Not until I see… There! Fiver Raymondo. Told ye. NIGHT BOLLY!" he shouted and then climbed into the waiting taxi.

Alex jumped and then burst out laughing. He had been waiting for her to appear at the window. Ray looked up and gave her a small wave goodbye before following Gene into the taxi. It roared away leaving a cloud of blue smoke behind and Alex shut the blinds, still grinning.

He had deliberately made her smile and laugh on an evening when she had been truly miserable. As presents went, she had to admit, that wasn't a bad one to get.

She spent Christmas by herself and didn't put her nose outside the door. She just couldn't handle it and was moved to tears by Luigi who seemed to know that something was up. There was a soft tap on her door around six in the evening and when she went to open it, there was a tray with food and a bottle of his best red wine left at the threshold, accompanied by a note in Luigi's handwriting.

_Signorina__, this time of year without your family is most difficult. But you have friends. Good friends who care. Enjoy your dinner and __Signore Hunt says I am to thank you again for him and that he will see you early tomorrow morning. Luigi._

Alex smiled softly at Luigi's thoughtful gesture and Gene's message. For some reason he really wanted her to know that he was grateful and was worried that she might not have taken him seriously last night due to his inebriated state. She took the tray inside and ate her dinner while watching The Sound of Music on BBC. It was a film that just kept on turning up. She remembered the big revival of it in 2006, with the talent contest on BBC and then the subsequent West End production. Here, in 1981, it was going though anther "revival" and was on the West End with Petula Clark in the lead role. She had seen the ads for it on the Underground and plastered on bus shelters. Now, here it was on the telly at Christmas; the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Alex didn't really mind – it was a link to her life and fitted the bill nicely for a cosy Christmas on her couch.

She went to bed around eight, knowing that she had to be at Gene's early the next day. In truth, she was rather looking forward to it and she nodded off to sleep, a little bit happier than she had been when the day started.

.o0o.


	6. Chapter 6

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: As always, thank you all so much for the reviews. This update is long and there's a fair amount going on here with a good deal of character introspection. I promise it has a purpose and I just hope you enjoy it. Also, as this bit is set in December 1981, the dreaded Scarman report has been released. That Report focused on racism in the Met and wasn't the Quality Assessment type of thing that was depicted in _Ashes_. I too have used it as a plot device and gave it more weight than it actually had in real life.

* * *

Boxing Day dawned and Alex showed up at Gene's, right on time. Ray opened the door, bleary eyed and tousle haired. "Mornin' Ma'am."

"Morning Ray. How are you today?"

"Knackered. 'E kept me awake until three in the mornin' and beat me at every 'and of poker we played. I dunno… he stacked the deck or summat… and he was pissed. 'Ow the fuck does 'e do it?" grumbled Ray as he trudged into the kitchen to retrieve his bags.

"It was nice of you to stay with him over Christmas," she said softly.

"Yeah… well… I know 'e hates it," shrugged Ray, glancing at her. There was something about the look she was giving him. She knew.

"'E doesn't think that I know but I do," he said, looking directly at her. "I know. About the kid."

Alex froze, unsure about what to do. "How could you poss-"

"Ma'am, it's okay. I know 'e never wants anyone to mention it. I'm jus' sayin'… I were a lowly PC in the late 60's in Manchester, 18 years old if I were a day. He was already in CID and we didn't know each other that well at all but he was all the rage about the place – just busted the Manc the Knife murderer and on 'is way to DCI. You know 'ow it is; it's a police station and word got around. Everyone knew but nobody spoke about it. I specifically remember she was born on Christmas Eve because I was duty on the main desk that year. So I know. It's why I said I'd do Christmas… jus' to be around like. I didn't know that 'e told you though. Maybe you'd 'ave been bett-"

"Oh Ray, no! No… that really was so very decent of you to do that for him. You've known him a long time and it was the exact right thing to do. I was better off on my own yesterday anyway."

"Errr… Ma'am? I know… errr… that we sort of got off on the wrong foot and everything but… ehhh… are you okay? I know… it can't have been easy for you either. Without your little girl."

Alex felt a lump in her throat and tears threatened to well up but she managed to keep them under control and she gave him a sad smile instead. "Thank you Ray. I know that wherever my Molly is, she was happy yesterday."

That answer was good enough for Ray and he nodded at her. "Good. Uhhh… just one more thing…" he hesitated, unsure if he should tell her or not.

"What is it?"

"He usen't to be like this Ma'am. The Guv… he's… different now."

"Different?"

"Yeah. The divorce and I reckon Tyler's death all changed 'im. Believe it or not 'e used to sit wiv us in the pub and 'ave a right ol' laugh. He'd tease about birds we were seeing, tell jokes, play darts. All that sort of stuff. But now? He prefers sittin' on 'is own. He hardly ever smiles. Never laughs. So, like I said, he's not the same. I jus' didn't want yer thinkin' that the Guv were always like this. 'Cause 'e wasn't."

"Do you think he'll ever be that person again?" she asked thoughtfully.

"'Oo knows, eh? It'd be nice to see 'im a bit happier and not be such a glum bastard all the time."

"Maybe he just needs time to adjust to his new life."

Ray shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe," he said and shrugged again. "Well, I'll be off then. Don't play poker with 'im today. He's on a roll. So… I'll see ye tomorrow… Boss."

The unfamiliar name made her look up at him in shock and he smiled broadly at her, before leaving the kitchen quietly and pulling the front door shut after him.

Alex just didn't know what to think. It was clear to her that Ray was becoming a proper DS, _finally_. He had a long way to go but knowing that he sincerely cared about Gene's welfare meant that she could trust him more. She was always uneasy when Ray was on duty, never certain that he would only have the one drink but now… maybe she had it wrong. She knew both Ray and Chris worshipped Gene but she was really only beginning to see how deep that loyalty ran. Ray, and she suspected Chris too, genuinely would do anything for him and vice versa. She could see why they all left Manchester together. A true, if slightly unequal, friendship but it worked for them. Was she now included in the group? Their Boss? Was this the future for Alex Drake?

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Who the hell knew any more?

* * *

Alex sighed, had her breakfast and read the newspaper from three days ago. Gene usually bought some tabloid rag "for the sports". Granted the tabloids were better than their 2008 counterparts but she still preferred her broadsheets. They were still proper broadsheets in the 80's with none of this compact nonsense that Evan had moaned about for ages. It was full of reports about martial law in Poland… Alex could remember nothing about it.

It was happening more and more frequently recently. Her memories of her old life were becoming hazy. Details about news events, music, technology; they were all just beyond her reach. She could remember everything about Molly, but it was getting harder and harder to make the connections that she had battled to make not so long ago. She couldn't remember the new tube stops on the Central Line. She didn't know what bus she used to get sometimes to go to work. She didn't even know if she ever did take the bus.

Looking around the kitchen, she caught sight of a Royal Wedding commemorative mug. Charles divorced Diana and married… married… damn! Not Clarence. Clarissa? Charles and… and… nothing. She couldn't bring the name into her mind nor could she even put a face on the person. She knew she remembered it at some point. Come to think of it, what actually happened to Di? She was going to tell Gene but then didn't. And why was she thinking about Paris? She didn't know anyone in Paris. Or did she?

She sighed again. All this wasn't helping her to accept her life and stop fighting all the time. In 2008 she was lying in a dark wreck of a… barge… or a riverboat with a bullet in her head.

She wasn't even sure she wanted to be found. After all, what would her life be like then? A partial invalid if she was lucky, or worst case scenario, someone unable to do anything for herself. A bullet to the brain, even from a low velocity handgun, would be enough to inflict serious damage if not, typically, death. To be in with any survival chance she would need a miracle. Maybe the bullet shattered against the skull and didn't penetrate the brain. But then she would still be conscious. Stunned and in pain yes, but still conscious. Scratch that. Okay – then she had mere minutes to get to accident & emergency. But nobody knew where she was. Scratch that too.

She drank back the last of her coffee and focused on the paper. There was no point in fretting about something she couldn't change and she just had to trust, in whatever "higher power" there was, that everything would be all right. More importantly, that Molly would be all right without her.

Putting those thoughts out of her mind, she read the paper from front to back and then washed her breakfast things. There still wasn't a sound from Gene but she wasn't going to wake him. What would be the point in waking him at nine in the morning on a day off? Instead, she pottered around the house, unpacking her clothes upstairs and tidied up the remnants of the late night poker session in the sitting room.

There was an empty whiskey bottle beside Gene's chair and she brought it out to the rubbish; nobody was big on recycling in 1981. Opening the bin made her pause when the sight of at least ten other empty bottles greeted her. She shook her head sadly, knowing that he had hit the bottle hard over the last few days. It wasn't her place to say anything to him either. They were colleagues and had become friends but she knew where her limits were with him. She dropped the bottle into the bin and resolved to say nothing. It wouldn't be worth the inevitable argument and this wasn't something she could really point any fingers over. She'd drunk herself paralytic often enough since she arrived here – all just to blank out the pain, confusion and loneliness. A door opened in the house and she knew Gene was in the kitchen before she heard him.

"That you?" came his gruff voice, sounding rougher than usual.

"Hi!" she grinned, coming back inside. "I was just putting some rubbish out. How are you?"

"Not so bad," he grunted, lying. His insides felt like there was a gerbil on the loose in there and his head wasn't much better. "Got a brew?"

"Yup," she said, pouring him out some strong coffee. He looked like shit and didn't fool her for an instant. He hadn't shaved for days and stubble had dramatically darkened his jaw which, with the accompanying dark circles around his red eyes and pasty colour well… he looked like a man who had been on a hell of a bender. Trying to sound as if everything was fine, she continued, "Do you want to go anywhere today? I didn't get a chance to as-"

"No, nothin'," he interrupted morosely, the hangover getting the better of him as he thought he was about to be sick. "And ye don't need to be tidying up the house. You've got a job to do here and cleaning isn't it. Got it?"

"Loud and clear," she replied sharply.

Gene sighed loudly in annoyance. "Is this a record? A huff within thirty seconds of saying hello? Jesus! Even the wife wasn't as quick as th-"

"I'm not your wife!" she snapped, hurt.

"Thank fuck fer that!" he snapped back. "I don't do happy family lovey-dovey bullshit bollocks!"

"I have absolutely no idea what that even means," she replied, deciding that wisest course of action would be to leave him alone. She went into the sitting room and switched on the television.

* * *

Gene knew he was being a bastard but he wasn't going to apologise for it. He may have been pissed on Christmas Eve but he regretted going up to her flat and kissing her like that. With Ray waiting at the bottom of the fucking stairs? Then he had to go and make it worse by trying to convey, through Luigi, that all he meant to say was thanks. And Alex, being a bird, was probably already picking out wallpaper and matching curtains. Even the thoughts of her putting the rooms to rights and doing the washing up this morning was enough to make him angry. Bloody _women_! A bloke couldn't be just mates with a woman. A snippet of a previous conversation with her popped into his mind; _you're terrified of women_.

Too fucking right he was. Not all women but… well… terrified of women like her. Women who knew what they wanted and had the brains and "balls" to get it. Before he knew it he'd be led down the aisle again and this time it'd be her wearing the trousers and he wouldn't even know himself anymore. Fuck that hand-holding, sad-sack, fairy, poncey, mushy, _shite_. He wasn't going to let it happen.

She was his DI and even though he had the occasional fantasy about shagging her brains out he knew he never would. No way. He was going to make it clear who _he_ was and who _she_ was. Enough was enough.

So, he stayed in his grumpy mood (accompanied by his rotten hangover) and Alex, rather than have her head bitten off for the umpteenth time, made herself scarce and let him watch the TV on his own.

She read, listened to the radio and eventually, ate a cold lunch that she had brought with her, by herself, in the kitchen. Normally, she would've asked him if he wanted something to eat but not today.

There wasn't a peep out of him all afternoon and into the evening either. Alex couldn't stand it. She had never been in a situation with an adult who sulked in silence like a bold child. As a child and teenager her home life had rows, as every home did, but Evan, being the type of man he was, would resolve issues there and then. Even when her marriage to Thomas fell apart it wasn't because they fought all the time; it was because they hardly ever saw each other. Alex could handle anything but silence and this silence from Gene was really irritating her. Firstly, she didn't know what she had done wrong. Secondly, she couldn't figure out why he was in such a bad mood and lastly, she couldn't do anything to rectify the situation.

Meanwhile Gene hadn't paid one bit of attention to the telly all day. He still felt horrendous as the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed over the past few days came back to haunt him. He had an acidic hangover at its very worst and his head was bloody killing him. Presently, he was hunched over on the couch but alternated between lying down and standing up, depending on whether he thought he was going to have to dash for the bathroom or not. Not that he could dash even if he wanted to, as every movement seemed to explode through his head.

He could hear Alex moving about in the kitchen. The thought of food turned him green again and he stood up, waiting for the moment to pass before sinking back to his seat in relief. Although, maybe if he was sick, it would stop the persistent lurching in his stomach. On the other hand, he didn't want her to know that he was ill either. After all, it was self-inflicted and she'd probably start giving him grief over it. It's what women did. His ex was a world expert at it and gave him a bollocking that seemed to last for a week each time.

He groaned and buried his head under a cushion as another wave of pain shot through it. A hipflask clattered to the floor when he moved and he silently cursed it. Not even hair o' the dog had worked. Dying. He must surely be dying. The pain… the misery… this was the worst headache anyone could ever have. And she didn't even check on him once. _Not once!_

Well, maybe it wasn't exactly her fault that she kept well clear. After snapping at her a few times after breakfast he had sent out all the signals that he _wanted_ to be left alone. Of course, in typical Bolly Knickers style, she decided to take him seriously, today of all days. When he was dying of the worst hangover in his _life_, she decides to get snippy. Women!! He would never be able to figure them out. They were so bloody moody.

It took him another hour before he would admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, the fault might be his.

* * *

Alex couldn't take it any more. She was going crazy and had nothing to do. She wasn't expecting a day where she would be excluded from even a simple conversation. Their relationship, both professional and personal, had come too far over the past few months to throw it all away over something stupid. Whatever was up with him, it was more than just the effects of a hangover and she was going to sort this out, here and now. So, hoping she wasn't about to take her life in her hands, she opened the sitting room door, expecting him to gloat as she was the first to give in.

He heard the door opening but it was too much effort to extract his head from under his cushion. He no longer cared that she could see he was seconds away from certain death. Fuckin' booze. He was _never_ doing this again. He felt the couch dip and then her hands pulled the cushion away. He screwed his eyes shut tighter.

"What a _mess_," she said softly and he cracked an eye open. She didn't look like she was about to get stuck into him.

"I'm dyin'," he moaned sorrowfully, in full self-pity mode.

"I can see that," she replied and stood up. "Wait here."

He gave a soft snort. Where the fuck would he go? He heard her rummaging about upstairs and then in the kitchen. Soon she was back with a glass of something fizzy.

Fizzy was bad. Fizzy would… do things. And not in a good way.

"Come on. Sit up," she said, holding out her hand to him.

He took it and she heaved him into an upright position, putting the glass into his hand.

"Down it in one," she encouraged.

Even the sound of the effervescence made him ill. "Can't," he muttered, turning his head away. "Sick."

"Well, better out than in," came the dry response. She was well accustomed to male hypochondria. "Drink it Gene. It'll help."

"Wot is it?"

"Andrews. Two and a half heaped tablespoons mixed with water. Drink it quickly so you won't get the taste. I've got some 7 Up here to follow."

He warily eyed the fizzing concoction and then, deciding it would either kill him or cure him, he knocked it back. He scrunched up his face in horror as the taste struck but Alex swiftly handed him the other glass filled with the 7 Up. He knocked that back too but not before he swished some of it around his mouth to kill the taste of the liver salts.

He waited and then belched richly causing Alex to recoil and smother a snort of laughter.

"I'm still ruddy dyin' 'ere, ye know!" he grumbled but with good humour this time, especially as he burped loudly again. "Jesus _Christ_ Bolls. 'Ow much of that stuff did yer mix up? If this explodes out o' my arse, it's your bloody fault!"

"Boo hoo," she grinned. "Come on. I've got some Anadin for your head in the kitchen, which you can have with some tea and toast."

"I'm not sure about food…" he said, following her nevertheless.

"Toast never killed anyone," she replied, dropping two slices into the toaster and popping the kettle on.

Gene gingerly sat on one of the kitchen chairs, figuring that he'd moved his head around enough for the day. Alex plonked two Anadin in front of him and soon, a steaming mug of tea and some toast followed.

"That's it? No fry up?" He didn't think much of her plan so far.

"No fry up. Let the Andrews get to work first."

"No lecture either?" Rather than wait for the axe to fall he'd rather let her have her say now.

"Lecture? Why would I say anything?"

This confused him. "I don't even get the bog standard 'you drink too much' bollocks?"

She shrugged. "Gene, in case you hadn't noticed,_ I_ drink too much. So I can hardly go pointing fingers at you, can I? Anyway what you do in your own home, especially when you have a few days off, is none of my business."

He gave her one of those strange looks of his. Eyes briefly meeting hers before glancing away as he bit at the inside of his lip. He nodded briefly, finished his tea and toast and then said he would go back to bed for an hour or two.

* * *

She felt quite sad after he left. Gene was killing himself, not all that slowly, with the booze and smoking and he didn't seem to care. She would never admit it aloud but she felt sorry for him. Not in a condescending or pitiful way but… because his lonely existence reflected her own. His whole world had imploded around him just as hers had. Where did an old-school DCI fit into the Met in the 1980's?

Nowhere.

She knew it and he knew it. She had found a copy of the Scarman report under the newspapers the other day. Everyone knew he had been reading it as he had been muttering and griping for over a month about the various recommendations for in-service training and how Scarman had given all the top brass little hearts and flowers commendations. The inference in the report was that the top brass were squeaky clean but that racism was rampant in the force in the "junior ranks". Bollocks. It was everywhere but as per usual, those at the top were clear of the shit storm.

Scarman aside, they both knew that the knives really were out for old-school coppers like him and his time on the Force was rapidly running out. They wanted bright young things to front the Met. To be community inclusive and politically correct. The Gene Hunts of this world were getting offered early retirements on full pensions or were getting promoted out of harm's way. They were considered embarrassments by some and necessary evils by others. It would only be matter of time before he was no longer thought of as necessary, evil or otherwise.

There was, however, a glimmer of hope but she was certain he would never go for it. Gene had an impressive record, including commendations for bravery for those times that he had been injured. He never spoke about them but Chris had filled her in one evening in Luigi's. He'd been shot (a few times – once seriously in the leg), beaten up, stabbed, sliced and had various bones broken. He had busted some big time criminals and figured out some notorious murder cases. Not everything he had done was a fit-up. There was a hell of a lot of good mixed in with the decidedly dodgy. In fact, since he acquired Tyler in the mid 1970's, his record was nothing short of outstanding.

She had come to realise that what Gene called "coppers nous" was actually intuition mixed with a burning intelligence. What looked like leaps into the dark almost always had a connection back to tiny, almost insignificant, clue which he had noticed but nobody else had. He didn't even realise it himself and would never be able to explain his "nous" rationally. To him, it was just gut instinct and it told him when something didn't smell right. He wasn't always right but it happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. Alex was beginning to trust his judgement but still pushed him to explain himself and bounced alternative theories off him. Working things out, strategising, planning… he was excellent at it but only when he put his mind to it. Yet, despite all of this, he was still only a DCI.

Gene's glimmer of hope for staying with the Met was promotion. He'd be a good Superintendant, she knew he would, but he would hate it. As Super he'd be off the streets but the Met would still get the benefit of his experience and knowledge. However, as DCI he was at the centre of things; out in the community and catching villains. It was where he firmly believed he belonged. But she could see it differently. He either went up the ladder or he would be pushed off it. She suspected he knew that too and would put money on it that he had turned down promotion already.

A rumble from her stomach, jolted her out of her thoughts about Gene's future in CID and back to her present. Figuring he wouldn't want dinner she prepared her own. It was Chris who had the job of filling the fridge this week and he did his usual job on it. Half filled with adult food, half filled with food picked by a hyperactive 12-year-old let loose in the shop. When she had assembled something edible, she took her dinner inside and watched a film on the telly. During an ad break around seven, she went up to check on Gene. He was fast asleep so she decided to leave him. Better that he slept and managed to get some natural rest without drinking himself comatose.

She returned to her film and whether it bugged him or not, she straightened up the place before heading to bed. Her routine for locking up was now second nature and her "tidy up" was just something she had to do. It gave her an excuse to go from room to room, checking everything was secure and ensuring that she knew the layout of the house exactly. She could move around in the dark and know she wouldn't bang into a stray chair, empty bottle or trip over a heap of papers. She still didn't like the fact that he left the car outside the house but with no garage, there was nothing she could do. She wanted him to put it in a lock-up near Paddington but he was having none of it and trusted that their bomb sweep of the car would suffice. She trusted it too but… it would've been easier. She supposed. She knew she'd still do a bomb sweep even if the car were in a lock-up so she had to admit he had a point. She showered and got herself ready for bed as quietly as she could and set the alarm for eight. Chris would be over for the Sunday shift and she could go, leaving this awkward day behind her.

* * *

Chris arrived early the next morning. He let himself into the house at about half seven and all was quiet. It was obvious when the DI was here. Everything was always tidied up and the Guv was never asleep in front of the telly. He went upstairs to wake Alex, as it was the rule if anyone turned up early. After all, there was no point in scaring the life out of each other.

"Ma'am?" he said softly, knocking on her door and opening it. "Ma'am? It's me. Chris."

Alex scrambled awake and sat upright. "Chris! Did I sleep it-"

"I'm early. Just lettin' ye know I'm here. If you want, stay there and 'ave a bit of a kip. I don't mind."

"Thanks Chris. No, I'll be off. Someone has to go into work so… I may as well get it over with."

"Okay. See you in a few," he replied quietly and went downstairs.

Alex joined him in the kitchen and filled him in on the previous day.

"So 'e was poorly all day?" asked Chris.

"Yeah, he went to bed yesterday evening and hasn't shown up since. Keep an eye on him today Chris. We can't have him going off into the deep end on us, can we?"

He agreed but her but added, "I can't really stop him drinking if 'e wants to Ma'am."

"I know," she sighed. "Tell you what. When he wakes up give him the biggest fry up he can handle and see if he'll go with you to… emmm… the dry cleaners! Yes. Here!" she said, digging through her bag and pulling out a silk shirt. She grabbed a bottle of tomato sauce and squirted some on it, rubbing it in. "There, that'll do. Bring that and something of your own. He'll have to go with you and the walk will do him good. Maybe divert him home though the park or something."

"I can do that Ma'am. No problem," smiled Chris at her. He was genuinely fond of Alex and looked up to her a good deal. She had helped him enormously over the past few months and given him more responsibility than he'd ever have in his entire career. Tyler had trained him well and he was itching to show that he wasn't just a nervous gobshite. He wanted to be the good copper that Sam taught him to be and Alex was giving him every chance. So he always went along with her schemes and plans these days. He mightn't understand all of them but he trusted her. If she said the Guv needed to get out of the house then that's what he would do.

They said their goodbyes and Alex made her way to work. Upon arrival in CID, she was struck by how… empty the place was. Only a few minor cases had cropped up over the past day or so and it was certainly nothing which uniform could handle until CID was back up and running again.

Alex just made sure to divide up the work fairly, leaving the vast majority of the violent domestic disturbances and petty crime with those not involved with Operation Wing. She dropped folders onto desks, noting who got what and then wrote the allocation of cases report for Gene. She left it beside his useless computer and checked that everything was where it should be in the office. A mischievous smile spread across her face when she spotted the matchbox cars on the desk and Chris's rubik's cube (confiscated by Gene because he was going to lose it if he saw Chris fiddle with it again). When Evan showed her, all those years ago, how to solve the cube he also showed her how to disassemble one. Twisting one side to 45 degrees, she popped off a corner piece and a few others. Then she set the little Quattro up to look like it crashed into it and scatted a few bits of cube around, giving one to the little Mexican in the sombrero. Satisfied with her humorous handiwork, she shut the office door behind her and hoped that the cleaners would leave it as it was.

* * *

The following day was business as usual as everyone was back at work. Alex was explaining to Shaz about a new filing system she wanted to try when Gene slammed the phone down in his office.

He wrenched his door open. "Bolly? In 'ere."

Shaz gave her a worried look but Alex knew that whatever had happened, it was nothing to do with her.

"What is it?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

"Apparently, you play well with others," he said mysteriously.

"Huh?"

"That was the Super," he stabbed a finger towards his phone. "Remember DCI Evil Prick Mooreland from Special Branch?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, you've been noticed and now…"

"Now what?" she asked, not liking the sound of this.

"Now they want to know if you'd transfer to Branch after this Operation Wing shite is in the bag."

"_No_!" she cried immediately.

Gene gave her a half smile. "The Super wants ye to think about for longer than half a second."

She shook her head. "I don't need to. No way."

"Not even for the mighty Special Branch?"

"Not even."

"I know Mooreland. He wants his precious Branch to do well. That miserable fuck has just been promoted to Super leaving a power vacuum. He'd like to suck you in and 'as already spoken with the Super here."

Alex shook her head again. "No."

"I told the Super that you'd think about it."

"Well you should've told him that you'd ASK me first!!" she said, her voice raising.

"I _AM_ askin' ye!"

"And I'm telling you NO!"

Gene rubbed at his eyes and forehead in frustration. He didn't want to fight with her again, not about this, not when she was saying no which is _exactly_ what he wanted.

"Fuck's sake," he swore under his breath. "Alex… this is a really smart move, career-wise, for you. Why would you say no?"

"Because I lo-like it _here_. We're finally beginning to work like a team but we've still got a long way to go. What would I do in Special Branch? Profile terrorists all day, every day? Gene… I'd hate that…" her voice got very small at the end.

"Bolly! Obviously, I don't want you to do something you'd hate! I mean… look outside; every single one of them tossers is working on somethin'! Our detection rates are the highest they've ever been. And on top of all that, we've got two major investigations underway. All of it is down to you. Do yeh think I _want_ you to go?!"

She shook her head. "I can't believe this. Gene, only recently I was wondering about CID and where it was going. I was thinking that you-"

"Don't say it," he interrupted. He knew what was coming next.

She met his eyes. "They've offered Super to you already, haven't they?"

He shrugged, "I've been offered twice. Once in Manchester, once here. I won't be able to say no when they offer the third time. Not any more."

"Promoted for damage limitation?"

He nodded. "Fuckers."

"And now they want to move me?"

"We could get very conspiratorial Bolly," he said with a ghost of a smile. "Or it could just be that I'm a Liability and you're the Poster Girl. What do you think?"

She smiled back at him. "Liability and the Poster Girl?"

"Yeah, Poster Girl with a shite cure for a hangover at that," he said, smiling even wider now and flicked at a piece of rubick's cube. "And I presume this little setup here is your doing?"

"I'm not saying anything until you apologise for calling my hangover cure _shite_," she replied, her eyes sparkling with humour at him.

"The Gene Genie doesn't apologise unless 'e really, really, _really_ has to," came the answer. "And I would _never_ crash me car into a giant cube. Anyways, you, Mrs Fruitcake, didn't wake me the other day and I slept for 15 hours straight. Me 'ead was as fuzzy an electrocuted sheep when I woke up! Good ol' Chris gave me the saltiest, greasiest fry-up you could imagine and then I were right on the road to recovery."

She laughed and was just about to say that they should go for lunch, eager to ensure there were no hard feelings between them, when Viv burst through the office doors.

"Guv!! Guv!! Trouble starting on the far end of the council estate. A few cars have already been smashed up."

They both jumped to their feet and with Chris and Ray they raced up to the garage for the car. Alex dug her fingernails into the seat as Gene ragged the car around the bends in the garage. She couldn't bear to look as concrete pillars and crash barriers flew by. Tyres squealing they were soon out on the road and at the scene within minutes.

* * *

Gene surveyed the destruction before them. A few cars turned out to be about fifteen, either smashed, burning or rolled onto their sides. A gang of youths with balaclavas, cricket bats, planks of wood and shovel handles were heckling a small band of uniformed officers.

"This is not good," he said, images of Brixton flashing through his mind's eye.

"No," she replied, surveying the jostling crowd and looking for a ringleader.

The fire brigade arrived and quickly set about dousing the burning cars.

"What's this trouble all about then?" asked Chris.

"Good bloody question Christopher," replied Gene. "Bolls?"

"Look up at the flats. There's something scrawled across two balconies. Evi… eviction!"

"The council are kickin' druggies and scum ou' of these flats Guv," filled in Ray. "I 'eard about it down the pub last Saturday."

"You'd think they'd friggin' well fill us in," snapped Gene, thinking that this was the last thing he needed to see out 1981. Another fucking riot and this time s was on his turf. "Right, I'll sort this."

"Let me Guv," she said, stepping forward. "I've handled tense crowd negotiations before."

He looked at her and considered his options. "Okay. But you don't put one toe in front of the line of uniforms. Got it?"

"Got it," she replied, glad that he listened to her for once. She swiftly moved closer to the uniformed officers.

"Drake, be careful!" he called out, seeing a few lads pushing and shoving each other in the crowd.

She gave him the thumbs up sign to acknowledge that she had heard. Then, taking a megaphone off one of the PCs, she brought it to her mouth.

"People, please! We understand your frustrations at these evictions but this will not resolve any-"

"Fuck off an' die, you fuckin' pig!" roared one of the young men back at her. This only encouraged more of them to hurl abuse, and spit, at Alex. Gene breathed deeply, itching to kick seven shades of shit out of this trouble-making rabble. He could see skinheads and various other unsavouries in the background. Typical rent-a-crowd job.

Alex tried again. "If you send forward a spokesperson, we can talk abou-"

It happened so fast that nobody had any time to react. Out of nowhere a petrol bomb flew through the air towards Alex. She didn't even have time to duck. When questioned about it later, although he didn't believe in such things, Gene would swear that her guardian angel was working over time this day. Somehow the burning rag fell out of the bottle just before it reached the line of officers and Alex. She was showered in petrol as it spilled over her but it didn't ignite. The bottle caught her on the temple and she stumbled and fell, stunned, to shouts of fury and concern.

She was vaguely aware of being dragged away from the burning rag and then strong arms snatched her up from the ground and ran with her. There was a lot of shouting but she really couldn't focus on anything except the throbbing pain in her head and the stinging in her eyes.

"It's okay Alex. You'll be okay luv," came Gene's voice, next to her ear, sounding gravelly. "Ray!! RAY!! Get over here!!"

She couldn't see, couldn't speak and could hardly breath as the petrol burned her nostrils. She spat as some petrol dripped into her mouth. Someone was taking her away from Gene but she clung to his arms in panic. She still couldn't see and tried to tell him.

"Gene," she wheezed her voice high with fear and from the noxious petrol vapour. "I can't… see you!! _I can't SEE!_" She went to rub her eyes but his hand caught hers and held it.

"Bolls! Bolls, shush! Listen to me," came his calming voice as his other hand cupped her face gently. "Ye mustn't rub yer eyes; just keep them closed. I know it hurts but we're going to sort you out now. Don't try to talk, I just need you to listen. Okay?"

He waited until she nodded.

"Okay. Good. Now, yer sitting on a wall near the back of the fire engine and we're going to pour water over yer eyes." He moved his hand away from her face and she thought he was moving away from her. Her hand gripped his and he knew what was wrong.

"No, I'm not leaving ye. I'm staying right here," he reassured her and she felt his warm hands grasp hers. "I've got ye. You'll be okay."

She gripped his hands back.

"Okay. Now, Ray is standing behind ye and he's going to hold yer head steady."

She felt Ray's hands gently hold the back of her head.

"This fireman… wot's yer name pal?"

"Steve, Mr Hunt."

"Steve 'ere is going to start pourin'. You need to 'old yer breath. Okay?"

She gave his hands another squeeze.

"Good. Chris is standing right here and Steve's mate is filling up buckets of water. So it's just us. We'll have you right as rain in no time, won't we boys?"

"Too right, Guv. We'll look after ye Boss," came Ray's voice from behind her.

"Course we will Ma'am," reassured Chris. "You just give the Guv's hand a squeeze when ye need to breath, okay?"

She nodded.

"Right. 'Ere goes," said Gene. "Lean back. Ray's got yer head and I'm holding ye so you won't fall. Deep breath Bolly."

Steve started pouring water from the bucket over her face as carefully as he could. Alex flinched from the freezing cold water and instinctively tried to pull away but Ray held her firmly. She couldn't hear anything as the water filled her ears and she inhaled some by accident making her splutter. They stopped pouring momentarily and Chris wiped her face carefully with a towel.

After the first few goes, they eventually got the hang of it. Her eyes were thoroughly deluged in water, as was the rest of her, by the time they were done. An ambulance had pulled up and she was instructed to keep her eyes shut as they placed soft bandages over them and taped the dressings into place. Gene lifted her into the ambulance, playfully complaining about having to carry her around all the time. Big blankets were wrapped around her to stop her shivering.

She almost let him come with her but remembered their situation just in time and shook her head when he said they were ready to go. "No! Gene you can't! Ray!? Chris!" she reached a hand out blindly trying to connect with them.

"We're right 'ere Boss," came Ray's voice from the door.

"Gene, stay with Ray. Chris, you come with me."

"No Bolly. I-"

"Gene _please_!" she said in a tone that meant business. "Stay with Ray. I can't see anything so I'm of no use to you!!"

He was about to protest strongly at her words but it was Chris who intervened.

"Guv, they need to get 'er to the hospital now. I'll go and I'll keep in touch."

He relented and let her hand go with a final gentle squeeze. "Chris, phone us at the station when you've got news," he said, almost as if he didn't just hear Chris's last words.

"Will do Guv," replied Chris and then the doors to the ambulance were shut and it drove off.

Gene surveyed the scene around him. The petrol bomb landing on Alex had been the catalyst for uniform to charge but also caused the majority of the crowd to scarper. Tossing over cars was one thing. Almost killing a detective was something else, so they legged it. Uniform had caught a few stragglers and were currently trying to bundle them into a police van.

Gene's infuriated gaze focused in on them. They'd do. He started towards them, the pent up anger just waiting to be released.

"Guv!!" came Ray's cry and Gene felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Time to sort out the scum from the scum, Raymondo. We'll see how brave they are now," came the reply as he shook Ray's hand off him.

"No Guv. Leave it. Come on – let's go."

Gene spun around. "GO!?"

"We can't Guv. We do this right. She wouldn't want you-"

"Do I look like I give a friggin' toss what she would want? Those little shits are getting a well deserved kicking. 'Ow fuckin' _dare_ they… she's my DI…" He marched away in the direction of the detainees.

"You're on yer own then!" shouted Ray after him, not knowing what else he could say to stop Gene.

It did the trick and Gene halted mid-stride. With fury written all over his face he stormed towards Ray who didn't flinch. Whatever was coming it was better that he was on the receiving end as opposed to the Guv landing himself in trouble again.

Gene stopped about two inches from Ray. "What did you just say?" he gritted out.

"If you're going to kick the shit out o' them then you're on yer own."

Gene grabbed Ray's jacket collar. "I'll give ye another chance to refresh me hearing before I rip that perm off yer head and shove it _so far_ up yer arse you'll have hair in orifices you didn't even know you had!"

Ray said nothing and carefully kept his expression neutral. He didn't want the Guv to get into trouble and he knew if Gene laid one finger on anyone… well, in all probability, it would be the excuse the top brass were looking for.

Gene shook him forcibly, tightening his grasp on Ray's collar, "Well, deaf-aid? You in or out?"

"I'm out Guv. We can't. Let uniform deal with them. The Boss 'as been hurt, nearly killed, so we should just get the fuck out of 'ere. We want to send these bastards down, don't we?"

Gene glared furiously at him for a beat and then shoved Ray away from him.

But he kept walking in the direction of the Audi and away from the crowd.

* * *

CID had all heard what happened by the time they got back to the station. So when Gene thundered across the office and slammed into his own, nobody was surprised.

Shaz, although she admired Gene greatly, was also a bit afraid of him especially when in was in a bad mood. Therefore, it took her some time to work up enough courage before she could put her plan into action. She knocked on his door despite Ray's hissed warning.

"What, Granger?" snapped Gene, looking up from a file.

"Guv, I was just thinking that maybe I should go and pick up some clothes for DI Drake. And that if it was okay with you, I'd like to take tomorrow off so I could stay around with her at home. She might need some help."

"Fine. Good idea," he said curtly after a pause. "Wait 'till Chris rings so we know what's the story. And…" he reached for his wallet in his back pocket. "Here. Twenty quid. Get taxis wherever ye need to go and get in some food for you both."

"Thanks Guv," she said, taking the money from him. "I'll keep receipts for everything."

Gene shrugged. "Just let me know what the story is."

"I will," she said softly and then left the office, closing the door behind her. Her phone rang and she went to answer it. It was Chris who filled everyone in on Alex's current situation. Gene opened his door and leaned against the doorjamb, waiting to hear. Shaz filled Chris in on the plan and then hung up.

"She's fine. A bit sore and has to wear the bandages for a few more hours. Then dark glasses for two days but otherwise she's fine. They're ready to let her go home already."

There were cheers and claps around the office.

Gene heaved a sigh of relief, releasing the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. "Good. Right, Granger, you know what to do. Off you go and send Chris back 'ere when ye see 'im. Me an' Ray will drop by to see you later when everything is sorted."

Shaz nodded, packed up her things and left, passing Vic on his way in.

"All those who were caught earlier have been booked and processed Guv," he said to Gene who was still standing at the entrance to his office, hands in pockets. "We're just waiting for the briefs to get here and then we'll charge them."

Gene looked at him. "So, they're in the cells now?"

Ray's ears pricked up. _Don't Guv. Don't._

"Yeah, we put them all in together," replied Viv. "Only got three in the end. The others were all minors so we let them go with a warning."

Gene didn't say anything and merely stalked past Viv, crashing through the office doors again. The hinges weren't going to take the kind of abuse he meted out to them for much longer. Ray scrambled to his feet and went after him.

"Would you STOP fussin' after me like a demented hen with a dose o' the scuts!!" came Gene's voice from the end of the corridor. "I'm going up to the roof for a smoke, _okay_?"

Ray tried not to take it personally but Gene was making it harder and harder. He wearily trudged after his boss and went out on the roof with him but stayed well away. It was absolutely freezing out and it was almost dark. Ray hoped they wouldn't be long. He only had his leather jacket on but the Guv was just in his suit as the petrol had ruined his overcoat. It was already at the dry cleaners and Gene hoped it could be rescued. He loved that coat.

"I can hear you frettin' from over here," sighed Gene, lighting a cigarillo up. "What the hell is up wi' you today?"

"Nothin' Guv."

Gene rolled his eyes in exasperation and flicked his smoke, watching the ash float away in the breeze. "Three. We only got three. And the other little _fuckers_ got off with a slapped wrist."

"Three is better than none."

Gene looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You know as well as I do that we really 'ave nobody. What do think will happen 'ere Ray? Seriously?"

"I…"

"Absolutely. _Precisely_. Sweet fuck all is what'll 'appen. Can we prove that any of the three in the cell actually threw the Molotov cocktail at Alex? No. Did we even see who threw it? No."

Gene took a long another long drag and continued, this time mimicking an upper class London barrister. "I put it to you, Detective _Chief_ Inspector Hunt, that you have no evidence whatsoever. You are simply inventing a revengeful tale against my innocent client who likes to recue drowning puppies and knit jumpers for old ladies in his spare time."

Ray didn't know what to say. The truth of Gene's words stung him too.

"So, once again Raymondo, I'll look like a fucking idiot in court if we pursue this any further. My DI comes within a split second of a horrible death, which would've been the result of an intentional act by the perpetrator, and we've got nothing. They walk away without a scratch. Alex is nearly killed. Is that even remotely fair?"

"No Guv."

"No Guv," repeated Gene bitterly. He didn't say anything further and finished his smoke. Then, still silent, he went back inside.

Ray followed but really, felt like just going home. It was at times like this when Gene was an extremely difficult person to be around. Usually there was a buffer zone between the Guv's anger and the rest of the team. That buffer was normally DI shaped. When Tyler died it had been intolerable, only relieved by the organisation of, and eventual relocation to, London. In London, Gene had gone through three or four temporary DIs before Alex had arrived and since she found her feet, everyone's lives had been made just that little bit easier. Ray had started to appreciate her efforts and, having spent more time with Gene recently, he also respected her for doing a very hard job. He was not an easy man to be around, especially when things started to go wrong. Ray had always known this but just hadn't realised the extent that Gene's black mood could sink too. Worse, he knew that this… morose anger was something new. This wasn't the Guv that he knew.

However, Ray wasn't completely blind to what was going on around him. Alex had made a difference to Gene and Ray suspected that it wasn't just a professional difference. The Guv was brighter when she was around. They drove each other up the wall but also seemed to get along like a house on fire. He couldn't explain it. Didn't even know what "it" was. But "it" was working. He hoped Alex would be back on duty soon. Ray would be the last person on earth to get someone to fight his battle for him but having Alex back would be the buffer zone he needed. Otherwise, he was going to pop the moody bastard one, straight between the eyes, if he didn't back the fuck off.

* * *

Later that evening, Chris, Ray and Gene arrived at Alex's flat. Shaz opened the door and let them in.

"It's us Boss," said Ray, somewhat unnecessarily. "'Ow are ye?"

"Doing better thanks Ray," she grinned, hoping she was somewhat facing in the right direction. She felt someone sit beside her and she knew it was Gene.

"Ye sure Bolly?"

She leaned against his shoulder briefly, "I'm sure Gene. Everything will be fine. They've checked my eyes out and because you got the petrol off so quickly, they're only sore but not damaged."

"Are ye sore now?" he asked, not fully convinced yet.

"Not really. They put ointment on my eyes so they're fine. My head hurts from where they gave me three stitches but given the amount of painkillers they put me on, I'm sure I'll forget all about it soon enough," she explained, giving a feeble smile.

"Can I get ye anything Ma'am… Boss?" asked Chris, tentatively using Ray's new name for her.

"No. No I'm really fine and Chris? Thanks for everything earlier. You were great."

Everyone chatted for a while and then Shaz suggested that they get dinner. She volunteered to go with Chris to order dinner for everyone from Luigi. Alex said she wasn't hungry but Gene wasn't having it.

"You'll eat something with all them drugs yer on," he declared, not taking no for an answer. "Chris, she'll 'ave the scallops with pineapple. See if Luigi has something non-alcoholic, other than fizzy water, as Drake can't be drinkin' with all them pills rattlin' around inside. Raymondo, give them a hand to carry everything back up here. I'll set this place up."

Alex was just about to protest but Gene pressed his knee against hers. Ray and Chris would be just down the stairs. He would be perfectly safe.

She nodded her agreement. "Ray, I think we'll need more cutlery."

"I'm on it Boss. Back soon," he said and giving Gene one of his cheeky, knowing looks he left the flat. Gene glared and closed the door firmly after him, putting the safety chain on.

Finally, they were on their own which is what he had wanted since he was with her in the ambulance. But now he couldn't think of something to say and the silence grew louder. He didn't know how he could tell her what he was feeling because he didn't know what that was himself. He wanted to be near her but also wanted to maintain a distance. He wanted to be able to put his arms around her and reassure her but he also abhorred the idea because it was "soft". So he was paralysed by his own emotions and thoughts and could do nothing except stare at the ground.

"Gene?" she asked, nervous all of a sudden. He was still there, wasn't he?

"Over 'ere Bolls," he said from the doorway.

"Can you help me to the bathroom? I want to take these bandages off and wash my eyes before the others get back." She reached a hand out for him.

"Is it okay to take them off?"

"Should've done it an hour ago," she replied, her hand still waiting for his.

Hesitating he stepped towards her and guided her to the bathroom. Alex stood in front of the sink and her fingers feeling for the edges of the sticking plaster.

"'Ere. Let me," he said as she kept missing a bit that was already lifting. He turned her to face him and freed the corner of plaster on her left cheekbone. "This might hurt a bit," he said as he peeled some of it back.

"Just whip it off," she replied, bracing herself for the stinging pain.

"I bloody well will not!" he exclaimed, working carefully. "Don't be daft!"

When one plaster was almost free he set to work on the other, instructing her to keep her eyes shut as the brightness of the light might be too much. Then, he removed the two bandages and surveyed the damage, wincing in sympathy when he saw some red-raw patches on her skin.

"Am I a total mess?" she asked, still keeping her eyes closed.

"No Bolls. Only a few red blotches."

She nodded and bit her lip. "Gene?"

"Yep?" he replied wadding the bandages up and tossing them into the bin.

"What if… I can't see?" She was afraid to open her eyes in case she saw nothing. "Everything was so hazy earlier and they shone all sorts of lights so I don't know…"

He glanced down at her. "Well, I reckon you'll be fine, jus' like they said," he said, hoping his tone was reassuring. He switched the bathroom light off and only the light from outside illuminated the room. "'Kay. Try it."

Her eyelids fluttered and gradually opened. She blinked a few times.

"Well?" he asked, voice full of concern.

She squinted up at him. "I can see you," she grinned. "It's a bit dark in here but yeah… I can see you."

He smiled back. "Told ye. A sight for sore eyes, me."

She chuckled and he tilted her head up so he could see look at her eyes properly. They looked sore but weren't bloodshot, just a bit swollen. He framed her face with his hands, sending a thrill through her.

"'Ow the fuck did you avoid getting burnt to a cinder?" he said softly. He looked at her and his head dipped towards hers fractionally. Then, almost as if he realised what he was doing, he let her go. "Jesus Alex… I thought you were a goner for sure. I wish we could've caught the bastard who threw it at ye."

"'Sokay. Even I didn't even see who threw it. We'd have no case," she replied, sharing his frustration.

"Ray stopped me from kickin' the lard out of the ones we managed to catch," he confessed suddenly. He didn't know why he wanted to tell her about that.

"Ray stopped…? _Ray_?"

"You've done quite the number on our wayward Sergeant, _Boss_," he said, looking down at her with a twinkle in his eye.

"But not on you apparently!" she retorted. "Gene! What would kicking any-"

"I _know_ Bolls," he interrupted. "I don't need to hear it. But… oh, fuck it. I've been a right bastard to Raymondo all day. He only stopped me from doing something that I knew I shouldn't be doing in the first place."

"Ray looks out for you. More than you know. You should apologise to him."

"I will. I'll do it at dinner. And errr… I were a right bastard to you on Boxing Day an' all. I'm sorry about that too."

"Wait. Is the Gene Genie _apologising_?" she asked, incredulous.

"I said I only do it when I really, really, _really_ have to and I reckon… this is one of them times." He gave her a gentle squeeze, patted her head awkwardly, and then stepped back. "Glad yer okay."

"Well, thank you Mr Hunt," she grinned. "For the apology and for getting the petrol off me so quickly. The doctors said if you hadn't acted as quickly as you did, then the petrol would have done unknown damage to my eyes."

"Couldn't have that, could we?" he asked and retrieved her sunglasses from the small table beside the door. "'Ere. When yer ready, stick them over yer peepers and you'll be back to battin' yer lashes at me in no time."

She grinned and then turned to wash her eyes as instructed by the hospital. Then she put the glasses on and followed him to the kitchen where he made her wait while he moved furniture about for people to sit on. Soon, everyone was back with food and drinks and there was much teasing and joking for the evening. Gene clapped Ray on the shoulder and handed him a beer.

"I reckon you've earned this one after today Raymondo. Good job. And thanks," he said gruffly, hoping that Ray understood.

"Thanks Guv," replied Ray with an appreciative nod.

Gene then handed Chris another bottle, "You too, dipshit. Ye did well – looking after Bolly. Christ knows _that_ can't 'ave been easy."

At first Chris didn't know if Gene was serious or not but then he saw Alex smile and Gene laughed. "Oh Chris! You still are the limit, lad," he grinned, reaching over to tousle Chris's hair.

"Well, he's still my hero," said Shaz, linking her arm through Chris's and gave his bewildered face a quick kiss. Gene and Ray made gagging noises and sniggered like schoolboys at Chris's blushes. Alex rolled her eyes in a futile gesture because nobody could see them behind the dark glasses.

"You just ignore them Chris. _I_ appreciated having you around today so pay no attention to the mature reactions of your colleagues here," she said smiling.

Gene muttered an "Oooo!!" under his breath, but his expression told her he wasn't annoyed. She hoped! She found it rather hard to see because they would only allow candles for illumination and insisted that she keep her sunglasses on. Apparently, this was another source of great amusement as more and more terrible Stevie Wonder "jokes" were bandied about.

Eventually, they began an impromptu poker game, with matchsticks as currency, and Gene said he would play her hand for her. It turned out to be one of the funniest evenings Alex spent in their company. Partly because he could run rings around Chris and Ray at poker but mostly because it was just funny to watch. Ray sulked, Chris moaned, Shaz praised and Gene bet like a mad man with HER matchsticks but was incredibly shrewd with his own. Then there were arguments over the rules, accusations about stacking the deck, swearing when people took too long plus evidence of cheating when Ray was discovered to be surreptitiously adding the odd matchstick to his pile.

Alex smiled because they were doing the only thing they could think of to cheer her up and help her forget how awful the day could have been. It worked too – she felt… happy and safe, for the first time in a long time. She could be happy here. She knew it.

.oOo.


	7. Chapter 7

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Can I just say that I really appreciate all the reviews that you've written. They keep me going! I hope you enjoy the next bit. We're finally getting somewhere - in more ways than one.

* * *

The rest of Christmas and New Years passed uneventfully. Alex was not allowed to return to work until the start of the second week in January. Her eyes were fine, if a little sore when she got tired, and the rest of the raw patches on her face soon healed. Her colleagues had all spent New Years Eve in the CID offices, thanks to another drugs bust that day. Knowing that she was on her own, Chris had gone to Alex's flat and brought her into CID around 11:30pm, where there was a small impromptu party kicking off. All the unlucky ones in the station who were working that evening were there, including a Superintendent or two, so everyone was on their best behaviour and didn't throw down as much booze as they were planning too. Gene saw what Chris had done and resolved, there and then, not to tease the younger man until next year. Just as well it was only half an hour away.

He stayed beside Alex for as long as he could, and they kissed each other at midnight without making a big deal out of it. Granted, she also gave Chris and Ray a peck too but Gene was different. They were standing at the entrance area to the kitchenette, separate but not too distant from everyone else, and at midnight he did what he had longed to do since she had been hurt. He put both arms around her, gave her a proper hug and she responded, tilting her face up towards his. He met her half way and they kissed briefly. Gene muttered a "Glad yer here" against her lips and released her. Nobody noticed them, or if they did, nobody cared. She smiled up at him as others soon joined them, welcoming in the New Year. They weren't alone for the rest of the party and Chris brought her home again around 1:30am but she caught his eye across the room before she left. Gene eyes held her gaze and there was the faintest impression of a smile on his face.

* * *

That look began a January which was a turning point, of sorts, for both of them. It was a dark and cold month but strangely Alex didn't mind the miserable weather. Normally this time of year found her bundled up at home wishing the sleeting rain away. But now it was different. Once she got back to work she was also back on the babysitting roster (the nickname, once initiated, had stuck). To give Ray and Chris a bit of a break, she did more than her fair share for the rest of the month.

It was those cold evenings that she enjoyed the most. She still insisted that they ate in some other places, rather than just Luigi's. It was too predictable and even though he moaned it about, he went along with her plans. Sometimes they ate at home but mostly, they tried all the decent restaurants they could find within walking distance. After dinner, Gene would usually take her arm and, huddled together, they would take the various scenic routes home. If it was raining, they would take a taxi but if it was at all possible, they walked, sometimes for an hour or more. He would never admit it but he was beginning to enjoy those walks. He especially enjoyed it when it was freezing cold because she would hold his arm tighter or, if he was feeling brave enough, he would take her gloved hand and hold it in his overcoat pocket, keeping it warm. (He was glad that the cleaners had been able to restore his coat to its former glory and remove the petrol from it. He had looked for a replacement but hadn't found one just right.) When they reached home, he liked her rosy cheeks and the way her eyes were sparkling after the exercise and cold. He couldn't help it; he was growing increasingly fond of her. As she was of him.

There was something else too and she never commented on it, or drew his attention to it, but she had noticed he was drinking and smoking less. Maybe it was because she wouldn't drink when on duty that he cut back too. Maybe it was because they talked more in the evening so he smoked less. She didn't know what it was, or even if was a conscious effort on his part, but it suited him. He wasn't paralytic in the evenings any more and consequently his temper wasn't as frayed the following day. He still had his moments but now his sharpness was more directed at genuine problems rather than minor irritations. Or so she thought.

What she didn't know was that the minor irritations still drove him up the wall, especially where Operation Wing was concerned. He was just learning how to disguise his annoyance much better and he grudgingly admitted to himself that cutting down on the booze was helping him in that regard. It infuriated him that they had made no progress and that Special Branch was around more often than he liked. DI Crane did his best but Gene was rapidly losing patience with his posh way of speaking and tossy, polite manners. He also disliked the fact that Crane worked well with Alex. He tried extremely hard not to let her see that he was annoyed and consoled himself with the knowledge that he saw far more of her than Crane did. Even when the babysitting roster returned to normal, he still found ways to see Alex on the evenings when she wasn't on duty. This went on for over two months, but the straw that broke the camel's back happened the first week in April.

* * *

Crane was in the CID offices, doing his weekly review and report with Alex and the two of them were chatting away about a play that was on in the West End. Naturally, they both knew all about the play _and_ the playwright. Both were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't spot him glowering in front of her desk.

Gene was waiting to hear a progress report, or something that would give him an idea of where they were. Instead, Crane was sitting there, yacking on about nonsense and didn't appear to even have a progress _note_ for Gene, never mind a progress report. The brief pang of jealousy was gone, replaced by over-boiling anger at Special Branch's complacency. This was his _life_ and they just didn't seem all that bothered to move the investigation onwards.

"We workin' or gossipin'?" he snapped, making both of them jump.

"Oh Guv," she smiled at him. "Sorry. We were just-"

"Couldn't give a shit," he interrupted rudely. "Crane, have you got any news for me?"

"No Sir. Still no progress and we've done a deep background check on all of your arrests. No links to the IRA."

"So, in other words, we're still exactly where we were weeks ago. No_fucking_where."

"Errr… yes Sir."

"Great. Well if you're done chattin' up my DI, why don't you just toddle off back to wherever it is you came from and let us crack on with some real policing."

"I was just leaving Sir," he replied diplomatically and stood up, gathering his files and coat. "Goodbye Sir. Goodbye Al-"

Gene interrupted him again by standing directly in front of him and glaring at him.

Alex mouthed a _sorry_ at Crane as he wisely beat a hasty retreat.

"What are you sorry for?" barked Gene at her, once Crane had left.

"You!" she snapped back. "There was no need to be so rude to him Ge-"

Gene leaned closer to her. "Don't you _ever_ apologise for me again! This is CID and I will speak to anyone however I fuckin' well want to," he said icily and stalked back to his office. Those were the last words they spoke to each other until Thursday morning. That's when all hell broke lose.

* * *

It was over something stupid – Gene had gone to a football match the previous evening without letting her know and she flipped. Ray thought he knew what she was like when she got angry but this was something else. He felt partly responsible because he had been with Gene but she had made it perfectly clear that her issue, for the moment, was with Gene and Gene alone. Their raised voices from his office soon permeated the whole floor.

"Why the FUCK should I bother trying to keep you in one piece if you're going to fight me every FUCKING STEP OF THE WAY!?" she shouted, her face white with anger.

His eyes blazed and he shouted back, "OI!! I am entitled to live my _life_ without every _fucking_ thing being cleared by-"

"NO!! There is no _entitlement_ and you know it!! You stupid, STUPIDman! I've given this EVERYTHING and this is how you repay it? This is what you do to all the months of work from Chris, Ray and me? You simply _had_ to go to a match and you never stopped, for one secon-"

Gene shoved his chair back and jumped to his feet. "Do _YOU_ never stop!? I'm not listening to this anymore Drake, so just fuck off back outside and get out of my sight. I'm your DCI and you WILL NOT speak to-"

Alex practically screamed in his face, "Respect is earned Gene. _It's FUCKING EARNED!_ Not given because you demand it!"

"YOU ARE A POLICE OFFICER!" he bellowed. "Like it or not lady, you _will_ follow my orders! If you weren't such a _frigid_ _bitch_ then-"

There was a crack and he staggered away from her, his eyes swimming and cheek smarting.

"You BASTARD!" she cried.

"Have another crack, you b-"

"Remember this, you ignorant thug," she said, her voice now eerily low. "If I like being called a bitch to my face, I'd still be married. So go and do whatever it is you fucking well want to. _I can't even LOOK at you any more!!_" She roared the last part of her tirade and slammed his door behind her.

And with that she marched out of the office, blinded by fury and unshed tears. She stumbled around Ray's chair which was pushed out too far from his desk and almost fell. Somehow she recovered her balance and barrelled past Viv who chose that unlucky moment to come in. Nobody knew where to look. Viv could tell they'd had a serious argument and did a swift u-turn out of the office. Chris stared at the desk, Shaz bent her head even lower over her files and Ray suddenly found the contents of his desk drawer fascinating. The others were too scared to even glance up.

* * *

It took Gene two hours before he was calm enough to speak to anyone. He figured that she either went home or to Luigi's so, taking Chris, he stomped off to face the music. There was no sign of her and Luigi said he hadn't seen her since early that morning.

"Guv, maybe she's still at the station?" asked Chris timidly, hoping that they wouldn't have to spend too long on finding her. He didn't know what to think about the latest argument. At first, he could see why Alex would be angry but he didn't think there was any call for her to lose the cool the way she did. He also didn't think the Guv deserved a smack either. On the other hand, he shouldn't have called her a frigid bitch. All of this over a match? And it was just a boring Chelsea game too.

"If she was still at the station, we would've seen her, you twat!" barked Gene but heading back there all the same. He sulked in his office for the rest of the day, surreptitiously keeping an eye out for Alex's return.

The uneasy silence in the office still bothered everyone so they just kept their heads down and hoped none of them would be next to face the firing squad. Viv returned around five, figuring he'd given enough time to allow for cooling off, and knocked on Gene's door.

"Come in Skip," he called, knowing that Viv would cut straight to the chase and leave out the nonsense talk. It was what he needed right now.

"Guv? That new filing system that the DI started with WPC Granger is great but the evidence room really-"

"What new filing system?" he interrupted.

"The one they've been discussing for a while?" prompted Viv.

Gene shrugged, fleeting snippets of conversations about alphabetising and dates and blah, blah, blah popping into his head. He didn't pay any attention to the plans at the time Alex and Shaz were discussing it and he didn't give a rat's ass now either.

"Oh, right. That one," he replied, thoroughly uninterested. "Please tell me you haven't come to talk to me about filing cabinets?"

"No Guv. The evidence room. The DI has helped us organise all the files and now we need help to link what we have in the room to what we have in the files. I was hoping we could have WPC Granger for a week. It's quite a big task and we've got more in there than even I realised."

"And when did this amazing revelation strike you Skip?"

"Today. I've been working with the DI on this all day and we-"

"She's in the evidence room?"

"Yes Guv."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Starting on the reorganisation," replied Viv, wondering why Gene didn't know where his DI had been. Was that what the argume… no. That's why she was in the evidence room. She'd rather be knee deep in dusty old boxes that face him in a bad mood. Viv couldn't exactly blame her.

Gene made his decision. "She's doin' that _now_!? Right, time for me to see this brilliant filing system in action before she packs everything away where I can't find it. Okay Viv - take Granger next week and let her do her thing. Are you knocking off now?"

"Yes Guv. I told the DI I'd pop in to see you on my way home. Anyway, thanks for that. Having WPC Granger around will help enormously."

"No problem," replied Gene as he followed Viv out of the office, "Just as long as you give her back."

Chris got up to follow them as he thought Gene was leaving.

"I'm going to the evidence room Chris. I'll be sure to let you know when I'm leavin'," he said somewhat sarcastically over his shoulder and Chris scuttled back to his desk, relived that he didn't have to be in Gene's company just yet.

Gene said his goodbyes to Viv and walked along the corridor, with a face like thunder so nobody would stop him to ask him anything. When he reached the evidence room, he opened the door quietly and let it click shut behind him.

"Oh good Viv! You're back! Can you lift this box down for me, please?" came Alex's voice from behind the shelves near the back.

"'Course I can."

There was a pause, followed by a sigh. "I think it might be best if you left me alone."

He peered around the end of the shelf stack at her. "No can do Bolls," he said, reaching up and lifting the heavy box down as requested.

Alex stared at her toes, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Gene looked at her but she refused to raise her head. She looked an absolute fright; covered in dust and grime from handling old boxes and bags, plus she had managed to get some sticky tape used for sealing evidence boxes mangled into her hair.

He clamped his lips firmly together so she wouldn't see him smile and then he broke the silence first. "Look… Alex… I fucked up and should not have done, or said, wot I did. It won't happen again. Ever," he said, the word sorry getting stuck in his throat.

Why did he have to keep apologising to her? Aside from the fact that he kept on putting his two bloody great big feet straight into it, of course. Gene hated been in the position where apologies seemed necessary and it bothered him, more than he cared to admit, that he found he had to apologise to her on a frequent basis. He wasn't expecting her to reply but she did and she surprised him with her words.

"I'm sorry I slapped you." She still wouldn't look at him.

"_Whuh_? Bolly…" he began, amazed that she would even think she had something to be sorry over, "I called you-"

"That's no the point. I've already clocked you once before and I… I… it's not acceptable."

"Eh, no! You clocked me twice. This was the third time an' they say the third time's the charm, right?" smiled Gene, more at the choice of her language than the sentiment. Between all the cursing this morning, and the slang now, it was obvious he was having an influence on Little Miss Brainy here. He was hoping to cheer her up with his remark but it didn't have the intended effect. Alex's head dropped lower.

"Oh come _on_ Bolls! It were only a slap. I'll live," he said, looking at her strangely. What the hell was wrong with her?

"What if it was the other way around? It's okay for women to hit men but not for men to hit women?"

"Right!"

"_Wrong_! Gene, I have never, _ever_, raised a hand to anyone except in self-defence. It's not who I am! I don't understand it! Worse, I thought nothing of it at the time."

"The Gene Genie thinks nothing of it too. Forget it Bolls and let's move on. You're sorry and I'm sorry. I really am. Now let that be an end to it." There, he had apologised. He really didn't have an option as he could see that the whole thing genuinely upset her.

"It won't happen again."

"Good. And I won't go anywhere without telling you in advance again either."

"Is that a promise?"

"Cross me heart and 'ope to die, stick a needle in me eye," he recited, still hoping to raise a smile out of her.

"I know where I'll stick the needle," she threatened, smiling at last, as her eyes met his.

"Oi! You just said you wouldn't inflict any more grievous bodily harm on me person!" he said, teasing her.

"Well, if you break your promise, I'm allowed to break mine."

"I reckon that's only fair," he said, his eyes twinkling at her.

"So… we're okay then?" she asked, uncertainty in her tone.

"'Course we are, you tulip! And to prove it, I'm taking you out when you come over on Saturday. The whole day – jus' you an' me."

Alex blushed, "You don't have to-"

"I know I don't _have_ to. I want to. 'Specially after today. Let's do something different for a change and err… do ye mind if it's not posh? It's just… I'd rather not do that until this _fucking_ case is out of our hair before-"

"Oh thank God," she sighed, he shoulders sagging in relief. "I didn't know how to say that I didn't want it either. I'd rather that we… well, that we _chose_ to go someplace nice rather than _had_ to go because it was my night on duty."

"My thoughts exactly Bolls. But I still think, as it'll be Saturday, that a day out would be good."

"So do I," she said, smiling at him. "Something different but normal."

"Great. Different but normal. No problem," he said returning her smile. "Are we done here?"

"Yep. Done," she replied and then she moved as if to kiss him goodbye. She realised what she had done in a split second and tried to make it look like she was just moving a box beside him.

Gene wasn't fooled one iota but he let it pass. He didn't want to kiss her in the grotty evidence room for one thing. There was a time and a place and this wasn't it. He had to make things right with her and taking her out for the day would be a big step in the right direction. However, before moving out of her way he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Speakin' o' things being in yer hair," he said, carefully pulling the bit of sticky evidence tape from her curls and tossing it into a box she was using for a bin. "I think you've stayed hidden in here for long enough Bolls. Let the woodentops finish it off and you get back to being an Inspector."

She smiled at him again and, almost with relief, she dumped the box in her hands on the floor. "I'm sick of this."

"If you didn't have a need to be so bloody organised, you could've saved yerself the trouble," he grinned and held the door open for her.

* * *

They walked back to CID together, talking about the various lost bits of mystery evidence she had uncovered that day. At first, they didn't notice the uneasy silence that greeted them in the office. People were unsure if the argument was really over or if they were just gearing up for round two. Gene spotted Chris darting furtive looks in their direction and he also seemed to be calculating how far away he was from the door. As if he was planning to run should their barney start up again.

"Oh for fuck's sake…" muttered Gene, followed by a world-weary sigh. "Yes children. Mummy and Daddy had an argument but it's over now. We love you all just the same. Except you, Christopher. Yeah. We've decided to put you up for adoption. _Jesus_!" He marched into his office, hoping the amusement didn't show on his face.

There were titters of laughter around the office and Chris, pleased at being picked on for once, grinned at Alex. "All right Boss?"

"Yes Chris, thanks," she smiled back. "Eh - did you finish your arrest diary yet?"

"Ummm…"

"Have it done by this evening. Shaz? Reports?"

"Finished Boss. I was just about to leave them into the Guv for signing."

"Good. Ray? Come with me, please." She got up and headed out of the office, with a not-so-very-mystified Ray trailing behind her. She led him into one of the interview rooms and closed the door firmly behind her.

"What's up Boss?" he asked, having a feeling he knew what was coming.

"Ray – did you give the Guv a ticket to the match?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

Shit. Ray saw that she was in no mood for kidding around, so there was no point in denying it. "Yes Boss."

"And you also know that we never worked out routes to safety from Stamford Bridge?"

"I were with 'im, see? An' I made sure that we too-"

"Ray?" she interrupted, her eyebrows raised.

He sighed. "Yes Boss. I knew."

"Then why did you go? Why give him the ticket?"

"I thought he'd enjoy it!"

She sighed loudly in exasperation. "Of course he'd _enjoy_ it! I have no problem with him doing anything he wants to. Ray, we've been over this a hundred times. You know how important it is that everything is planned and worked out in advance. I just don't understand why you did this! I know why the Guv went – he can resist anything except temptation but _you_? After all the weeks, _months_, of work you've put into this case? I've got to say… I'm disappointed."

He knew there was no excuse or at least, nothing that came to mind. "I'm sorry Boss. I know I let ye down."

"You let the _team_ down," she corrected. "And you placed the Guv in a situation where we had no backup or safety route worked out. Do _not_ do it again. Furthermore, I will not hesitate to remove you from this case if you make another blunder no matter how minor you perceive it to be. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Boss."

"Good. That's all."

Ray nodded and stood up, deciding that the best thing to do would be to leave the room as quickly as possible. He was sorely tempted to tell her to fuck off and he didn't appreciate the bollocking he just received. However, he also had to admit that she had been very straightforward and calm and that she had a point. He felt a pang when he thought about the potential consequences of his actions. He knew the Guv would come to the game and he thought that if they took different routes there and back that everything would be okay. He just didn't think the whole thing through. He sighed loudly and went to make himself a cuppa. Chris was sitting at the table and they soon were chatting about the footie.

However, Ray had learned a hard lesson. No matter how certain you are of your own ability, you always check with the Boss first. Especially this one. Alex was now going to notice everything he did for the foreseeable future. Christ alive, that was going to be fun!

* * *

On Saturday, he took her to see _Chariots of Fire_, which was something that she had never seen. Or at least, if she had, she couldn't remember a thing about it. Not even the stirring main theme sounded familiar to her. At this point, Alex was now accustomed to "forgetting." The infuriating blanks in her memory that always hovered just out of her reach were no longer worth struggling for and she was learning, slowly, to live in the moment. She enjoyed the film but she enjoyed being with Gene more. Especially when he did little things that she hadn't expected. Like this – a day that was something normal but different, just as she had asked.

They had already worked out various routes home or to the station from this exact cinema but he didn't have a reason to put that planning into use, until today. He had already picked this cinema because they showed old cowboy films and kept the new stuff running far longer than everywhere else. He always figured he'd use it some day but until now, he never had the time or the enthusiasm to go. It should be normal thing, to be able to go to the cinema but for them, it required just that extra bit of attention. She appreciated that he had thought about it in advance, as if he was showing her that his actions of the previous week would never be repeated.

He treated her to fish and chips afterwards. It wasn't the long promised Dover sole but it was close enough. Alex didn't mind a bit and preferred it to some fancy night out, even telling him so at one point which made him give her one of those rare smiles of his. It poured rain as they made their way home and Gene wanted to flag a taxi down but she wouldn't let him. Instead, she took his hand and let the rain thoroughly soak both of them, despite his protests about catching cold.

"Alex, it's the middle of bloody April!" he said, turning up the collar of his coat as the water streamed over his shoulders.

"So!?" she grinned. "I've always wanted to walk in a downpour like this without caring so damn much about getting wet! Come on!!"

He shook his head but followed her with no further complaints. They cut across part of Hyde Park and stopped at the fountains at the end of the lake, both saturated at this stage. She fed the remnants of her soggy chips to some ducks and laughed as they pecked each other in their rush to scoff the last one. He smiled as he watched her, seeing that she was genuinely happy. Go to the flicks, have a few chips and feed the ducks in the park? Not to mention getting a soaking. He never imagined that she would've enjoyed it or that she would have walked with him, hand in hand, through one of the busiest parks in London.

She tossed the newspaper wrappings from her chips into a nearby rubbish bin and he held out his hand, eager to get back home before the damp coolness of the evening caught up with them. Alex smiled at him as she slipped her hand into his again and, catching her by surprise, he bent down and lightly brushed a kiss against her lips. It lasted a fraction of a second longer than a kiss between friends should do but it didn't last long enough for her liking. Just as he pulled back, she brought her hand to the back of his head and pulled him down to her lips again. This time it was a soft, gentle but also urgent kiss. They were lost in each other and it was a duck, flapping about in the lake with frantic quacks, which brought them back to their senses.

Ending the kiss, Gene rested his forehead against hers. "Crispy Duck for dinner tomorrow. That okay wi' you?" he muttered, sending death thoughts to the noisy bird.

Alex gave a snort of laughter. "I'll grab it and you can wring its neck."

"The little gobshite won't know what got 'im," he growled and then kissed her again.

She pulled him closer, one hand at the nape of his neck and the other on his waist, moulding her body to his. They kissed slowly, urgently, softly, roughly, tongues duelled and soothed and hearts pounded. Eventually the need to get more air became too pressing and they mutually stopped, both breathing deeply but they still didn't take their arms away from each other.

"Christ Bolls," he whispered hoarsely, "That was one hell of a snog." He brushed a stray curl of rain-dampened hair off her forehead.

She nodded and reaching up, she gently ran a thumb over his lips which were swollen from their kissing. She imagined her lips must look the same because they certainly felt like it.

"What are we doing Gene?" she asked, gently caressing his cheek.

"Fucked if I know," he replied in amusement, chaffing her free hand in his. "'Mon. Home, 'fore one, or both of us, catch the lurgy."

* * *

He held her hand tightly as they hurried back to his house. Much later, as they sat together in front of a roaring fire, Alex thought that their day out was probably one of the best "dates" she had ever had. She smiled up at him and saw that his eyes were drooping.

"Gene?"

There was a non-committal grunt in reply.

"You're tired. Go to bed."

"Istayin'ere," he mumbled and his head fell forward before he jerked it upright again. "'M awake! Whaddya' say te me?"

She laughed quietly. "Come here," she said, gently pulling him towards her.

He shifted sideways on the sofa and turning onto his back, he rested his head on her thigh. He didn't even realise it but he slept for about half an hour. He thought he just closed his eyes for a few moments.

Alex didn't quite know what to make of the situation. She knew she was happy, she suspected he was too, but how had this happened so suddenly? How had they gone from ripping each other to shreds during the week to this moment of peace? She gave a soft laugh. Sudden? She was kidding herself. It had been anything but sudden.

Their… relationship, if that's what it was, had started from the first moment they saw each other. It progressed from utter loathing to animal attraction to grudging respect to a genuine friendship. Now it was a combination of everything they previously had, plus… plus… she couldn't say the word. Love? No, she didn't think so. It took two to love and she had no idea if he was even past the "not bad for a posh bird" stage. She liked him, thought he was attractive, enjoyed his company but love was this whole other thing that she was too afraid to analyse. Was it possible to love someone who drove you to distraction at times?

"Bolls?" he said suddenly, his eyes still closed.

"Ummhumm," she replied, turning over a page of her magazine, to disguise the fact that she had been gazing down at him and hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'll never say it again. The word, you know…"

She smiled and gently brushed a hand across the top of his head, "I know Gene."

"I was always afraid I'd turn into a right vicious prick, like the ol' man," he continued. "I thought that as long as I never laid a finger on any woman, then I was better than 'im. But… 'snot just about givin' someone a thump, is it?" he looking up at Alex, waiting for an answer that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"I don't know much about your father," she said carefully. "And emotional abuse is equally as difficult to live with as physical abuse but I think… I think that physical violence in the home has got to be one of the worst things that could happen to any family. You are many things Gene but I do not, for one second, believe that you would be capable of that."

"I got a right big gob on me when I want to though," he muttered.

"So do I. It was so stupid to fight like the way we did. We're adults… Jesus, a DI and a DCI behaving like that? I'm ashamed of myself over it."

"Me too Bolls," he replied, catching her hand and holding it against his chest. "The lads can't see that again. And I mean never. We can have disagreements over cases, or methods of policing, or hippy psycho-babble bollocks…" he smiled up at her. "I want that but… I don't want to make it personal like the way it was on Thursday. Not wi' you."

"Me neither," she agreed, intertwining her fingers with his. "Gene?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you in such a cross mood? I thought you'd been coping quite well but all of a sudden, you took Crane's head off and sna-"

He squeezed her hand tenderly. "I just got annoyed with everything. With the lack of progress. I saw Crane sitting there and saw the two o' you havin' a grand ol' chat for yourselves an'… fuck it. It pissed me off."

She smiled to herself and mentally gave herself a kick for not tumbling to it earlier. "You do know that DI Crane is just a colleague?"

"Huh," he grunted, uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had taken. Fuck. She knew he was jealous.

"Just because I have a similar background to him and can talk about places that we've both been to or similar things we have seen, well, it doesn't mean anything other than a talk between colleague and friends."

"I know," he sighed. "I do. An' you mustn't mind me when I go off on one of me rants. Crane just isn't my cup o' tea with all his _Yes Sirs_ and _No Sirs_ and _Three Bags Full, Sirs_. I wanted progress not a gossipy chat. An' it all came out wrong."

"So, while I thought you were coping quite well with all the various minor little quibbles and hiccups, you were just keeping a lid on it and David was the straw that broke the camel's back?"

Shit – David? When did she start callin' the tosser _David_? "Sorta. I were savin' it all up for some scumbag," he replied with a small rueful smile.

"That's not acceptable any more," she said bluntly. "No matter what the circumstances."

"I know that too Bolly. You have no idea 'ow much," he said tiredly. "I just… like, I only have to think of the day the petrol bomb got you and I… I was _this_ close to ripping someone limb from limb."

"But you didn't."

"Thanks to Raymondo."

"Gene, in future, when someone on your team gets hurt… _please_ just think about the consequences of your actions. If you so much as sneeze near a suspect again, you're finished. You _know_ this!"

He sighed heavily and moved from his comfortable position to pick up the wine bottle, gesturing to her. "You sure you don't want some?"

"No thanks. I'm not much help to you as an extra pair of eyes and ears if I'm pleasantly relaxed, am I?"

"Nothing's going to happen Bolls. We're well into April now an'… nothin'," he said, willing her to agree

"Until we are certain of that fact, this Operation isn't over," she said clearly. "We must be _certain_."

He rolled his eyes. "You're exactly the same sort of picky pain in the arse that Sam was over stuff like this. 'Ow do I get saddled with DI's like yer?"

"Would you rather have som-"

"That was one of them oratorical question thingys," he said, deliberately getting the word wrong to make her smile. "No answer necessary or required." He gave her foot a good-natured tap with his to show he wasn't cross.

"You have _GOT_ to keep your temper in check when dealing with people in custody," she said, getting back to the point. "We're in such a position of power, compared to them. Yes, sometimes you might have someone in custody who really deserves it but… Gene… you're not judge and jury."

"Thank Christ fer that!" he interjected. "Fucking bane of my existence, the lot of them court ponces."

"Maybe so. But police kicking the shit out of people just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time? There was that Irish case… the uhh…" she trailed off, trying to think of the Birmingham Six case. She knew there was something about a case involving Irish people and police brutality… but what was it? _When_ was it?

"What did you just say?" he asked, suddenly sitting up straight.

"Err… I didn't. I was trying to remember that Irish ca-" She didn't know exactly what he was referring to or if he was about to explode over some innocent comment.

"No, about police kicking-"

"-The shit out of people who were in the wrong pla-"

"Wrong place at the wrong time…" he finished, something dawning on him. "Bolls… I do believe… you may have… lit the Gene Genie's light bulb…"

"Huh?" she said, totally wrong-footed now. What was he _talking_ about?

"Way back. With Sam. There was a case…" he got up and started pacing around the room. "O'Brien…"

"Who's O'Brien? I don't-"

He held up his hand, needing quiet as he thought things through, fingers running through his hair and pieces began to click into place for him. "Fuck it!" he cried eventually. "I never… _shit!!_ I was in the stands at that Spurs game!"

"I know. So…?"

"There were _Manchester_ City fans at that game!! Special Branch have only been focusing on who I arrested in London-"

"No, I told them to look into Manchester cases too."

"'Ow far back?"

"Five years."

Gene shook his head, "No… no… O'Brien was… '73 or '74, I reckon."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. Early enough days wi' Sam."

"And what has this got to do with the game in November?" She figured he had made some sort of connection in his mind but she was still a bit at sea. What had he done to this O'Brien person and how was it all connected with the IRA?

"Okay, in the stands, there were lots of City fans around me. He must've seen me there, the little weasel. You were right about kicking the shit out o' people. I gave 'im a proper goin' over. Had to be pulled of 'im. Patrick O'Brien!! It _HAS_ to be him!!" He could see that she was confused – he was confused himself. Could it really be so simple? He had to sound her out.

"Right, listen and tell me if this sounds mad. Years ago, back in Manchester, someone was stealing dynamite and it got messy. Ray was nearly killed by a car bomb. We suspected the IRA and hauled in a prime scrote, one Patrick O'Brien. Suffice to say, I… err… worked him over. Long story short, 'e wasn't involved at all. Neither was the IRA. Last thing 'e said to me was something about the IRA. _Fuck_… what was it?" He screwed his eyes shut in an effort to remember. "Nothin'. I can see him sayin' it but can't remember the words. Sam will kno… would've known," he corrected himself sadly.

Alex got up and stood in front of him, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Keep your eyes shut and breath slowly. Think about O'Brien. He mentioned the IRA to you. It was the last thing he said. Ask yourself why did he say it? Did you watch him afterwards?"

Gene did as she instructed. "Yes. I made sure someone kept an eye on 'im. Nothin' but a poxy little thief and bloody useless one at that."

"And why were you watching him?"

"Because… because I suspected that he'd try it. That he'd try to join the IRA. He was such a fucking useless twat that I figured he'd lead us straight to an active IRA cell."

"So, he wasn't an IRA member when you and Sam arrested him?"

"No. No… he said that…" he opened his eyes and smiled at her, "He said that us English think that all the Irish are good for is shovellin' shit or makin' bombs. He said 'e was sick of shovellin' shit."

She smiled back, pleased that she helped him. "And that's why you were watching him. Because he said he was going to join up."

He nodded. "He may 'ave tried. I don't think they'd touch someone as well known to the police as O'Brien was. Anyone could see we were watchin' 'im like a friggin' hawk and I kept it that way for a good few years. As such, I wouldn't put it past the bastard to put the frighteners on me if 'e saw me at the game. Fuck it – I'd do the same thing if our situations were reversed. I ummm… I…" Gene stopped and studied his knuckles.

O'Brien was a much smaller man than him and he hadn't held back at all. That beating was one of the Hunt Specials. Remembered for a long time afterwards and not always for the right reasons. He knew he'd crossed the line with O'Brien. He knew it.

"You crossed the line?" she asked, voicing his thoughts.

"Crossed it? Bolls – I committed the foul AND took the free kick from the friggin' stands. I couldn't even _see_ the line. If Sam didn't pull me off him… I would've beaten him to death." He stopped and balled his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white. Maybe he was a vicious bastard after all. This wasn't just giving someone a slap – this was almost beating someone to death with his bare hands.

Her smaller hands covered his tightly clenched ones, loosened them, and she gently held his fingers in hers. The she looked up at him with those large eyes of hers and Gene ached to kiss her again but knew that she was in "business" mode now.

"Your idea about O'Brien will be difficult to prove. We have to link the note and bullet to him," she said softly. "This is serious stuff we're dealing with here and if you were wrong…" she swallowed. "If you were wrong and something happened…"

"Then let's be sure I'm not wrong," he replied, looking at their joined hands. "Let's work this idea through wi' the lads, first thing in the mornin'. Hey! Hey… what's this?" he asked softly, seeing tears on her cheeks.

"Oh Gene," she sobbed, putting both arms around his neck and holding him tightly.

He was mystified at her reaction. He patted her back awkwardly until she had calmed down a bit. "You all right Bolls?" he asked, feeling most uncomfortable. This clingy, needy Alex wasn't the woman he knew. What the hell had just happened? One minute she's fine and the next she's weeping like a damsel in distress into his chest?

She nodded and stepped back from him, pulling a tissue from her pocket and blowing her nose. "Sorry about that."

"An' wot was _that_, exactly?" he asked quizzically.

"That was me being stupid. Nothing is going to happen. Not if we do this the right way."

"You're damn right there," he replied, feeling that he didn't quiet get the whole story but something that was close enough. "Okay. Fancy a brew?" he asked, trusting in the old reliable cuppa to cure her woes.

"That'd be nice, thanks," she smiled.

"I do believe I may even have a secret stash o' pink wafers out 'ere," he said, heading into the kitchen.

Alex's smile faded when he left her alone. That's what had caused the tears in the first place. If, in this world, she had to survive without him then she didn't know what she would do. Despite everything, it was Gene who drove her mad _and_ kept her sane. Without him…

She took a deep breath. Not on her watch. This case, if it linked to O'Brien, would be textbook. Everything would be checked, verified and NOTHING would be overlooked. Gene had once said that she was a tough ol' bird. He had no idea just how tough she could be when she had to be. This was one of those times. Was it an IRA threat or someone from his past? She could feel it, that buzz of excitement of a breakthrough. Gene had an idea and it was the best idea they had so far. Time to go with it and see who was in his shadow.

The clock was ticking.

.oOo.


	8. Chapter 8

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Thank you all so much for your kind and encouraging reviews. I know I'm slow updater and that it interrupts the flow of the story. I hope you'll stick with it and thank you all for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm trying to move things along and get some "issues" resolved. You'll know what I mean when you read it.

* * *

Since making the connection to O'Brien, Gene was eager to start planning the next move. His head was buzzing with anticipation and he knew sleep would be an impossibility. Alex felt it too and together, they strategized and planned all night and into the morning. Again, she got to see the professional DCI side of Gene, the side that wasn't all bluster and blunder. He really was excellent at this sort of thing and could work out an Operation, with all sorts of different permutations, far quicker than she could. She would propose something and he could see the merits and pitfalls almost immediately. He had solutions to problems and knew how to get the system to work for him, having spent almost his entire career looking for ways to circumvent it.

"It's like this Bolly," he explained when he told he that he would get a budget of £500 from the Chief Super with no problem, "you either go through all the proper channels and follow all the stupid little procedures they have in place, or you get your shit together and you walk into the Chief Super's office like you own it and you don't leave until you get what you came for. Fuck embarrassment or feeling like a turd. When it feels right in here," he thumped his chest, "nothing should stop you."

"I think there are very few people who can do that successfully," she smiled at him.

"Know anyone who fits the bill?" he replied, eyes twinkling at her.

She laughed. "I'm thinking Chris might."

Gene snorted, "Good ol' Chris. I am fond of the lad but Jesus… what are we going to do with him?"

"I think he'll be able to handle what we want him to do."

Gene nodded but didn't say anything. It was the only aspect of their plan that made him uncomfortable.

Packing up their notes, they spent about an hour getting ready for work. Alex had called the entire squad into work and nobody dared complain about the early start on a Sunday morning. She wouldn't call unless it was serious.

Gene and Alex arrived into CID first at about 8am and they went over their plan one last time in his office.

"Chris and Ray? I know you're all on for givin' them more responsibility Bolls but this? I dunno… this is big."

"It has to be them Gene. There's nobody else. They are the ones who know the territory best of all. Obviously, you can't do it and I can't do it. So, what other choice do we have?"

He sighed and placed his head in his hands and muttered, "I know! I know!"

"They're out there now," she said, seeing the two decidedly worse for wear men stumble into CID. "Ready?"

Gene nodded and got to his feet, following her out to the assembled few outside. "Thanks for coming in everyone," he began and tossed a whiteboard marker to Alex. "Bolly will take us through it."

Alex mapped out everything about O'Brien that she and Gene had discussed the previous evening.

"I don't believe it!" cried Ray eventually.

"'_Scuse me?_" asked Gene, glaring at him.

"No Guv… I see what yer sayin' and that all looks right to me. It's just… Boss? Remember when this all started and we were taking about car bombs?"

"Yes?" queried Alex, not sure where he was going with this.

"I told you I knew what to look for because I'd been almost blown up before. During the O'Brien case! So all along we've-"

"Had an association with this case," she finished, grimacing. "I know Ray. But you can't look at it like that. We always suspected that there was a connection to the Guv's past. Therefore, it was always possible that we would discuss the relevant case and not realise it at the time. There was no way we could have known that we had the right case in front of us, from the very start. Don't focus on that, okay?"

Ray nodded as listened intently as she continued with her plans

"Now, we need to work out what to do. It's going to take a few days and I want this done correctly and that means _everything_ gets recorded properly. That's going to take time but it will be ultimately worth it."

"So… what do we do Boss?" asked Chris, sucking nervously on a cigarette.

"As always, we keep this between ourselves for one thing," said Gene. "Everyone who needs to know is in this room. Anyone not here doesn't get included. Got it?"

There was a chorus of, "Got it, Guv!" from the room

"Good. Okay then… DI Drake has worked out a role for everyone. We're trusting some o' you with stuff you've never done before. Do not let us down. Go ahead Alex."

Alex filled everyone in on what she wanted, detailing who was to search back through records, who was to visit Scotland Yard and figure out where the package at Christmas would've been, who was to work the London snouts and who was to go to Manchester. This last task was reserved for Chris and Ray and it's what was bothering Gene.

"Chris, you're going to Manchester. Find out everything you can about O'Brien and I mean everything. What he's been up to over the past few years. Family, friends, employment, hobbies. The lot. You are NOT to approach him yourself. All information is to be gathered through snouts and people that you can trust in GMP. If you're not sure about someone, don't use them."

Chris nodded and diligently scribbled in his notebook. Alex's hand closed over his gently.

"You need to listen to me first Chris. Then you record everything. It's quite simple. Find out what you can about O'Brien's life without him knowing or becoming suspicious. That's it. If you think he's on to you then you get back here immediately. Don't wait. Get a car and leave. Clear?"

"Got it Boss."

"Good man," said Gene, taking over for Ray's part. "Now for you Raymondo. You're going with him and you need to talk to some people."

"Wot sort of people Guv?"

"People connected to IRA people."

Ray visibly paled. "C-come again?"

"Sit around pubs, buy drinks, go to clubs. Whatever it is you need to do to figure out what the IRA are up to in Manchester, then you do it. DI Crane is going to set you up with a mate of his in Special Branch up there. He'll direct you towards reliable snouts. All you're looking for is what the IRA would do when they want to scare someone. You're not to enquire about O'Brien and you sure as fuck don't mention my name. You listen, talk and discuss. You don't need to connect directly with the IRA and anyways, you'd probably have fuck all chance in a few days. It's eyes and ears open. See what they're about. You can't push too much because they'll immediately be on the alert but you can't just piss about either. It's a bit of a balancing act but you can handle it. We just want to know what's the current situation, directly from you. That's it."

"And Ray?" continued Alex. "When you're getting people liquored up, don't join them. You need to stay alert and aware. Okay?"

"Okay Boss," he nodded, feeling more than just a bit scared with the responsibility.

"One last thing," concluded Gene. "We're getting you both a budget to spend on snouts so use it wisely. You both keep in touch with each other up there. If one has to get out, the other will follow as soon as possible. Don't wait around. All going to plan, and as soon as this gets the clearance from the Super, you're leaving on Wednesday and will be back next Monday morning. By Monday night, we'll have everything put together."

They spent another hour going over the finer points, explaining details and answering questions. The excitement and nervousness of the chase infused them all and they were eager to close it down. All they needed was one solid lead, one break, and this tedious case would end. If everyone played their part to the best of their ability, and they would, they were certain to get a result.

* * *

The next few days were a flurry of activity. On Tuesday, Gene had secured the budget he wanted from the Chief Superintendent by being his usual forthright self. He laid out the entire Operation, answered every question curtly but politely and showed why it would be money well spent. Nationwide policing, thinking outside the box, making connections, working together. Gene ticked all the right boxes and walked away with £600 in his pocket.

Alex was more than pleased at the extra windfall of cash and gleefully squeezed his arm when he showed her. She had helped him prepare what he was going to say to the Chief Super and he recognised that without her help, he may not have been as successful as he was.

Now that they had the money and the go ahead from the superiors, all Gene was waiting for was a call from a colleague in the GMP. He was waiting in his office, playing darts, when the phone rang and he eagerly snatched it up.

It wasn't Manchester, it was the Super and he wanted to see him as soon as possible. Gene decided to let Alex wait for the phone call while he went and untangled the Super from whatever bureaucratic nonsense he'd tied himself up in. Alex made herself comfortable behind his desk and watched as he shrugged into his jacket and straightened his tie.

She felt as apprehensive as he looked. "Gene, you don't think he's going to pull the rug out from under us, do you?"

"Don't know Bolly. You know him as well as I do. Dozy git couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery these days. Hope he doesn't keep me up there all afternoon talkin' shite," he sighed loudly. "If you need me, you now where I am. See ya later."

"Bye," she called after him as he marched out of the office, shoulders squared and head held high – ready for battle. She hoped the Super knew that now was not the time to mess Gene about. Otherwise, they'd be scraping little bits of Superintendent William McKenna off the walls for some time to come.

* * *

"Come in!" came the Super's gravelly voice.

"You wanted to see me Sir?" asked Gene, stepping into the office.

"Ah yes, Gene! Good of you to call in at his busy time. Have a seat."

Gene did as instructed and hoped that McKenna would just get on with it. He didn't have much time for poncing about on the admin floor.

"Gene, I think that you should hear it from me first. I'm retiring at the end of August. It was confirmed today."

"Oh. Well… congratulations Sir." Gene's stomach sank – this was not going to be a good conversation. He knew it.

"Indeed. Well, I have my full pension already and I'd rather just go now and enjoy my grandchildren. I don't want to progress any further in the Met so…"

"They offered you a decent retirement package?"

"More than decent. With the option of choosing my successor."

"I see." He couldn't think of anything else to say as he could almost hear the axe whistling through the air as it headed straight for him.

"You've already said no to promotion twice. I find myself in the rather difficult position of breaking up one of the best CIDs or losing you altogether. I can't keep you as DCI where you are for much longer. There are others who have been waiting and the deal from Manchester was DCI for six months then move up. But, as we all know, you turned down that open promotion. I need you seriously to think about it before you say no again and I need an answer by the end of next week."

"Fuckin' 'ell…" he breathed as his shoulders slumped. "So that's it. I'm off the streets, one way or another."

"Not necessarily. Just because I'm an old-style Detective Superintendent who has hardly left this desk in five years, doesn't mean you have to be. You've got a vibrant team around you. There are things you wish you could do but you can't because the structures aren't in place. There's no reason you can't organise it and set it all up. The job is changing and it's up to the people in the Met now to make sure we leave a half decent police force behind us. Think about it. Talk it over with whomever you need to."

"Until next Friday?"

"Next Friday morning, 9am," confirmed the Super.

"This couldn't have come at a worse time Sir."

"It can't be helped Gene, although I am sorry to add to your burdens at this tricky time. Still… you always knew it would happen, right?"

"But… Mooreland, Sir. He's just been promoted to Super and it's not typical to have two new-"

"Ah! I'm glad you mentioned that. Can we… can we talk confidentially Gene?"

"'Course Sir."

"Good. Right, well, DCI Mooreland's "promotion" was never confirmed. He presumed he was the heir apparent and he made that assumption based on what I thought was a private conversation. He then proceeded to let a select few people know, yourself included, no doubt. Make the competition think that the game is over before it ever got started. He's also very anxious for Special Branch to brake a major case."

"He wants Drake."

"I know he does. I can't say I disagree with him either. Someone of her ability would be invaluable to Special Branch."

"She doesn't want to do that."

"Apparently not. But Gene… don't you think she's wasted in CID? Psychology is what she does and what she has been trained for. She needed to learn about real policing which is why I assigned her to you in the first place but it was never meant to be permanent."

"Branch will have her behind a desk, profiling terrorist nutters, all day every day. She doesn't want that!" he repeated, a feeling of irritation and desperation rising in his chest.

"She doesn't _have_ to go to Branch! Use your head! Think about what you've been offered today. Think about what resources you'd like to use if you could. Work out a strategy for the future. Present it at the Board. The job would be yours."

"There's a Board?"

"Something DCI Mooreland thinks is only a minor hurdle. Gene… cards on the table. I don't want that conniving little _bastard_ to call the shots from behind this desk when I'm gone. But he has the job in the bag if nobody stands in his way. I'm offering you this last chance. For the love of God man, look at the bigger picture."

"With all due respect Sir, despite what you're offerin', no Board will pick me over him."

"You couldn't be more wrong. I'm telling you that if you put some thought into this the Board will be more than impressed. Gene, the _Chief Super_ is more than impressed with you recently. All the signals are there."

"You want to put that in writin'?"

"You know I can't do that but I would if I could."

Gene sighed, feeling as though he must bow to the inevitable. "Not a word of this gets out William. Not a fuckin' _word_ until you hear from me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

They said their goodbyes and Gene desperately needed to get away and think things through for himself. He felt in his pocket for his cigarettes before realising that they were probably in his office. He had really made an effort to smoke less and it was beginning to pay off but now, he could've done with the whole tobacco factory. He felt utterly exhausted and didn't know what to do or where to go.

Sadly, he trudged back to CID and nodded at Alex as he passed by her desk. "Did GMP ring?"

"Yes Guv. Details are on your desk – everything is a go from their end. Eh, how did you get on wit-"

"What are you doin' tonight?" he interrupted, almost as if he hadn't even heard her. He was desperate to talk things over with her.

"Nothing planned," she replied, smiling at him but the smile faded when she saw his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… oh fuck it… everything," he sighed. "I need to talk to ye. Privately. It's not about the case. Everything is okay there. Can you sort it out wi' Ray and come over about eight?"

She nodded. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"In such circumstances Bolls, I find the truth is best," he replied, giving her a sad smile before heading into his office.

Her eyes followed him across the room. She knew by the way he sat as his desk and shielded his eyes behind the hand that propped his head up, that something had happened. Something that had upset him.

She wasn't the only one who noticed either. Ray's eyes soon met hers and she inclined her head towards the door, motioning for him to follow her. When she opened the door to an interview room, Ray did a mental check. No, he hadn't fucked up on anything that he could think of. He took a seat opposite her.

"Boss?"

"Relax Ray. I need your help with something this evening," she said, giving him a small smile.

"What's up wi' the Guv?"

"I don't know. But whatever has happened, he wants me to come over this evening about eight to have a chat."

Ray felt anxious. "You're not… leavin' us, are you Boss?"

"Not if I can help it," she replied. "No, they wanted me to transfer to Branch but I said no."

"Could they ask again?"

"Possibly. I really don't know what's happened Ray. We'll find out soon enough, I should think. Now, this evening-"

"Here's a thought. Why don't you an' the Guv have yer chat at your place? That way, I can hang about downstairs wi' Chris an' the lads and you can just focus on whatever it is he needs to talk about."

"Thanks Ray but I think he needs to be at home. Would you mind going there with him now and I'll pop over later?"

"Does 'e want to go now? It's only half four."

"I think he should. He looks pretty wretched, don't you think?"

"I think he's looked that way for the past two weeks Boss. Are ye sure you don't want me to hang around later or anythin'?"

"I'm sure. Thank you though."

"Okay Boss. Well… I'll head off with him now."

"Good. I'll see you later."

* * *

True to his word, Ray managed to get Gene moving without too much trouble at all. Gene sat silently in the passenger seat all the way home and headed straight up the stairs for a rest when he arrived home.

Ray hope that the Guv might give him some clue as to what was going on but Gene kept himself to himself. At about half seven, Ray was watching some football on the television and Gene joined him.

"All right Guv?"

"Been better Raymondo. Been better. Who's playing?"

"Only highlights. Chelsea versus Arsenal."

"Any good?"

Ray gave him a look. "Good? Poofter London clubs."

"You support Man U, Ray. You can't afford to talk," grinned Gene, their old bone of contention getting picked over again.

"Fuck off," replied Ray good-naturedly.

They watched the television in silence and then Gene spoke. "I think our time is up pal."

"'Ow'd you mean Guv?" asked Ray, feeling anxious.

"I mean they've offered me Super again."

"Shit…"

"Exactly."

"Can't you say no again?"

"I don't reckon Ray. It's more of a case of move up or move out. Keep it to yerself, won't you?"

"'Course I will Guv. Not a word. When's all this goin' to happen?"

"Don't really know. Our Super will still be around until August."

There was a sound of keys in the hall door and Alex walked into the room. Everyone said their hellos and Ray, knowing the Guv had been anxiously waiting for her, stood up to leave. Gene saw him out, reminding once again to keep what he knew to himself, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Don't fret Raymondo. Something tells me that if this Super thing works out, you'll be seeing me a lot more often than the current Super."

"Bet 'e doesn't even know where CID is," grinned Ray.

"Bet 'e doesn't," agreed Gene. "Night mate. See ye tomorrow."

Ray waved goodbye and Gene returned to Alex in the sitting room

* * *

"Well Bolly… the axe finally fell," he said, flopping onto the sofa beside her. He filled her in on everything that had happened during the day, including what the Super had said about her possible transfer.

They talked for hours and he told her everything about the job. All the pros, all the cons. They discussed it and weighed up his options.

"What do you want to do Gene?" she asked eventually, after a pause in the conversation.

"I don't reckon I've got much of a choice Bolls," he sighed loudly and rubbed a hand across tired eyes.

"You'll be a great Superintendent. It'll be different but not necessarily as bad as you think it will be. Just remember to think about all you can do now. All the little things that bug you with the current Super will go away. You can change all of that."

His head lolled against the back of the sofa. "It's not me though, is it?"

"It could be. It should be."

"An' what to do about you?"

"As you're not the Super yet why don't we take one thing at a time?" she smiled at him.

But Gene didn't smile back. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, holding it for a long moment before releasing it. He felt her hand lightly brush across his forehead.

"What's wrong? You don't look well," she asked softly, keeping a gentle hand on his head.

"Nothin'," he said quietly but he wouldn't look at her.

Something didn't seem right to her. She took her hand away and just waited. He would tell her or not and there was no point in asking again. She already knew he hated that.

"I can't take much more of all this," he said quietly. "I always thought I could. No matter what was thrown at me, I knew I could take it. But I haven't been able to do that…" his breath hitched and he screwed his eyes shut tightly. "Jesus Bolls… what the _fuck_ is wrong with me these days?"

"Shush. It's all right," she soothed and slipped an arm around his shoulders. "Come here."

He moved willingly into her embrace, resting his head against her breast, listening to her heartbeat. One hand smoothed through his hair and she let the other rest around his shoulders lightly. Alex was only too well aware of how their positions mimicked the time they were trapped in Edgehampton. Back then, it was Gene who provided the comfort that she needed. Now it was her turn to do the same for him. At least they weren't running out of air or getting boiled alive. No, this time, they were quite comfortable on his sofa and could stay this way for as long as they chose.

"I didn't mean to moan," he said after a long period of silence. "Don't know what's got into me." He still stayed where he was, reluctant to move a muscle, as he was so comfortable.

"It's okay. You're just exhausted," she replied, keeping her voice low and calm. "You've got a lot to cope with and a lot on your mind so just take it one step at a time. I know it's not easy for you, having every facet of your life mapped out and planned. Especially as this case has gone on for a lot longer than we expected."

He shook his head a bit. "That's not it. I just… I…" he trailed off, unable to tell her what the real problem was.

"You just what?" she prompted gently.

"You'll think I'm soft," he replied, wanting to tell her but finding it terribly difficult.

She reassured him with another stroke of her fingers through his hair. "I won't."

"I miss Sam."

There. He said it. He moved out of her arms and stared at the floor. She was going to think he was right Jessie.

She was thrown for a loop, as this wasn't what she thought he was going to say at all. She hoped she wouldn't sound trite as she replied. "And you've been thinking about him recently? Because of the case?"

He nodded. "I also keep thinking that you and him are so alike. And you are. When it comes to policing, you do things the same way, you talk the same, you mess with me head the same. But… yer not the same."

"No," she said quietly.

"Sam and me had right barneys over the years, even had a couple o' punch-ups. It'd clear the air and we'd be fine. But you? I can't deal with you the same way. Sam… he was me best mate and I wish… oh I wish he was still here Bolls. Havin' him around now would help. And I don't mean that I wish you weren't here or that you don't help. But I jus' miss my friend."

His voice broke and he clamped his lips firmly together. Jesus fucking Christ he was going to cry. Talk about making things worse for yourself! Gene Hunt, a great big snivellin' Mary? Fuckin' _hell_!

Alex didn't say anything for a while and didn't let him know that she was close to tears herself. All this time and she had never realised it.

"You loved him."

Gene sniffled. "'Course I did, the daft bugger."

"And sometimes you feel like you're replacing him with me and that you're somehow betraying his memory?"

He gave a curt nod. Her hippy psychtwattery maybe wasn't such hippy psychtwattery after all.

"Gene, I'll never replace Sam. _You'll_ never replace Sam. But time has moved on and even though his death was devastating, you need to move on. You have a life and people around you who need you. Who depend on you. People like me."

"When I'm needed, I'm there. I told ye that before."

Always the stalwart soldier. "And what about you? What do you need? What do you want?" she asked, pressuring him a bit. She was treading on dangerous ground now and she knew it.

Gene moved off the sofa without answering and she could have cried for him. He was so guarded about himself. What the hell had happened to this man that he kept himself so securely shut away? She got the briefest of glimpses of his private self. Sometimes it was a sunny smile that made his blue eyes sparkle; a laugh that was infectious; a tender kiss in the rain or his hand around hers in his coat pocket. But those instances were few and far between. She thought that he would be comfortable enough with her at this stage, that he would trust her, especially when he seemed so comfortable in her arms. But she had pushed too far and now his Guv mask was firmly back in place, apparently embarrassed over his quiet moments and admissions to her. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and his need to get away from her was practically stamped on his forehead.

Not fooling her for a moment, he looked at his watch. "Christ, it's late. I'm off to bed. Nice hot shower should set me right up."

"Okay," she replied, feeling just a little bit hurt. "See you in the morning."

He was at the door when he turned around and said gruffly, "Thank you Bolls. Don't know what I'd do without you," before escaping from the room as if it was on fire.

He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time and locked himself into the bathroom. He simply had to get away from her because he was so close to giving in. At that moment, when she asked him what he wanted, he almost showed her. He wanted her. Needed her and it was getting harder and harder to keep those desires hidden. Even after everything that had happened today, his main thought had been to see her and talk it over. Alex would help him make the right decision. He wasn't going to even think about accepting any offer without her input first.

And when she held him, so gently, he knew he could have stayed in her arms all night. Gene let the hot water from the shower pour over his tired shoulders and back. It was pleasant but not nearly as pleasant as being held against her had been. Her breast had been soft, her heartbeat comforting, her hand running through his hair had been kind and gentle.

It was the first bit of physical kindness he had experienced in a long, long time… well… not since the very early days of his marriage. It wasn't until he felt that connection again that he realised how much he had missed it. When the rest of the world was caught up in the day-to-day self-absorbed shit, there was someone who was content just to let him lean against her and not think him any less of a man for it. Quite the opposite in fact. She had listened and understood and helped him to see what was wrong. Christ, he had been seconds away from pulling her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly and… he took a deep breath, willing himself to stop thinking about it.

"Stop, stop, stop, _stop_!" he muttered to himself under the spray from the shower. If that's what he wanted, if she's who he wanted, then he'd do it right. She deserved so much more than to suddenly pounce on her. Much as he'd like to… he groaned and thumped his head softly against the shower wall. _STOP_!

She was right. He had an awful lot on his mind and she only knew about some of it. There was something he had to know first and until he got his answer he knew he'd never take that final step with her.

* * *

The following day, Ray and Chris departed for Manchester on the evening train. They left with all details and plans neatly filed and set out under Alex's supervision. They had never been so well briefed by their senior officers before and both of them felt the burden of responsibility. They were doing this for the Guv and they weren't going to let him, or the Boss down.

Alex shivered as she watched the train pull away, hoping that this would pay off, hoping that they had made the correct decision. She wanted to get back to Gene's house and take a long, hot bath. She had the heater up full in the Quattro as she drove and eventually Gene had to ask her to turn it down.

"I never thought I'd say this Bolly, but I'm feelin' a bit car sick. Too hot," he muttered, moving the temperature down.

As they were turning onto his road, she didn't mind. They got some dinner but Alex just picked at it, as she wasn't hungry. Gene wanted to see a snooker game on the telly so she took herself of for her long promised bath. It didn't help much but she felt relaxed enough and sleepy enough to go to bed. They said their goodnights and she was soon out like a light.

It wasn't to last. At about two o'clock, she was wide awake and again, freezing cold. She tossed and turned for a while but then got out of bed and went downstairs. Her dreams had been disturbing and sleep was an impossibility now

She sat in the comfortable armchair, legs curled under her, and read for a while but soon, her book lay forgotten on her lap. A small table lamp glimmered in the far corner of the room and she looked out at the quiet, bare garden, thinking about nothing and everything. She heard footsteps overhead and knew it was Gene. She smiled to herself – she even knew his step now. She heard a door creak, then another and then his footsteps on the stairs.

"You can't sleep either," came his voice from the sitting room door.

"No," she quietly replied into the semi-darkness.

He moved closer to her. "It's cold down here."

"I hadn't noticed."

One of his warm hands found hers, which were folded primly on top of the book.

"Bloody hell Bolly! Yer freezin'!"

Alex shivered. "I've been cold all day. It's nothing." Apart from the fact that Death's cold hand had her in his grip. Otherwise, nothing was wrong whatsoever.

"Is this like what happened before?" he asked, remembering her misery from a few months ago.

She nodded stiffly. It was hard to explain it to him. This time the clown didn't haunt her but she had the same bone chilling coldness seeping through her. It had been bothering her all day but she refused to allow it to take a hold. Until she started dreaming about dying in a meat freezer. And here he was again, bringing her back to life. Alex gave a snort of laughter.

He took in her ghostly pale look, which didn't seem like a laughing matter to him. "What's so funny? You _want_ to feel like a Mr Frosty special? Which you probably wouldn't if you bloody well put some more clothes on, you dozy tart! What are you doing, just sittin' there in your PJs? Christ alive! Here!" he said, struggling out of a thick jumper he was wearing.

She was about to refuse but he had already plumped the jumper down over her head. Relenting, she put her arms through the sleeves and wriggled the rest of the jumper down over her. Her hands were roughly where his elbows had been and the jumper trailed comically over the end of her fingers.

"Lovely," he smiled. "I'm getting some tea and you look like you could use a hot cuppa. Want anything with it?"

"Maybe some toast?"

"Coming right up," he replied and went out to the kitchen. He put on and egg for himself, popped the kettle on and searched around in the presses for some jam.

"Bolly? Where's me jam?" he asked, his voice muffled because his head was in the press under the counter.

"Chris ate the last of it," she replied. "He got some of that marmalade you like. It's in the fridge."

"Thanks!" he called and found the jar. Chris had started them all on marmalade sandwiches, preferably toasted ones. Nobody got why it made Chris smile but he eventually let them in on the joke over lunch in the CID kitchen one day.

"Marmalade sandwiches Guv! You live near Paddington Station. Paddington Bear!! Geddit?"

Alex had laughed, Gene and Ray called him a poof and tossed crisps at him but when Chris's old Paddington Bear teddy bear appeared in the Guv's kitchen, Gene sat him on the bread bin and there he had stayed ever since.

"Ey up, Paddington!" said Gene, lifting the bear up to take out some bread which he dropped into the toaster. "Christ you are in a right state, aren't you? You poor bastard. Can't be helped mate, we all get tatty in our old age. Look at me – I'm talking to a stuffed bear, for fuck's sake." He put the bear back with a smile and carried a tray full of tea and toasted marmalade sandwiches into Alex.

"Get up then," he said, taking her book away and pulled her gently to her feet and sitting where she had been. Before she had time to question, he pulled her back down into his arms, moving her to his left thigh and holding her close. "You got some socks on?"

She raised one foot into his line of sight and he saw some horrendous purple and yellow woolly bed socks.

"Ooo _very_ sexy," he muttered in her ear, making her smile which is what he intended. "Gives me the horn just looking at 'em."

"Sicko," she muttered back with a smile, taking a steaming mug of tea from him.

They ate in companionable silence and Gene smiled to himself when Alex scoffed down another sandwich. She was gradually beginning to heat up and he got her another hot cup, which she took gratefully.

"What were you reading?" he asked eventually, seeing the thick book on the table. He would have said anything to keep her with him a bit longer and the book gave him a conversation opener. She appeared to be content in his arms and he certainly wasn't going to object.

"A medical textbook. Wanted to look up something about that disease that drug pusher was using as an excuse."

"What drug pusher?"

"The one involved with all those heroin deaths," she reminded him. They'd been working on a case where a number of drug users had died from heroin cut with rat poison. The inquests were coming up soon and she was finalising the files that were going to the coroner. That hadn't been the only thing she looked up. She checked which tiny part of the brain regulated temperature. The hypothalamus was buried deep within the brain, near the brain stem. If that part of her brain wasn't working then what hope was there? None. She knew it.

She sighed loudly in resignation and turned her face into his neck. "So why are you here? What woke you up?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged slightly, careful not to jostle her head. "Thinkin' about Chris and Ray. Praying they don't fuck up."

"They won't. Well… they shouldn't. No, they won't," she replied indecisively.

"See, that's _exactly_ why I'm awake Bolls. Cheers," he said dryly.

"They'll be fine," she said in what she thought was her most reassuring manner.

"'Course they will," he lied back.

"It's like the first day of school, isn't it? You've done all you can and off they go, with their little schoolbag and lunchbox. They have to go and stand on their own two feet. I remember feel… oh," she stopped abruptly, having just realised that she picked a bad choice of metaphor. Gene never got the chance to experience a child's first day of school.

"It's fine Bolly," he said, not bothered by her inadvertent faux pas. "Rather appropriate choice of visuals too, seein' as how Chris really did have lunchbox with him. Star Wars if I'm not mistaken, the big nerdy nancy."

She smiled at the memory and took his warm hand in her cold one. "Sorry Gene. I didn't mean to make you-"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He wasn't annoyed but didn't want her to tread on eggshells around him. "Alex, you _can_ mention children without thinking I'm going to dissolve into a snivelling heap at any moment. Don't be so worried about it."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable or to remind you about something that you never got the chance to experie-"

"Oi!" he said, smiling at her, determined to lighten the mood. "Never say never!"

Surprised, she looked up at him. "You'd still want to have children?"

"Yeah. I suppose so. Always reckoned I'd be a Dad someday."

His answer surprised her. "Seriously?"

"You say that like I must be out of me mind!"

"No! No… I just didn't think that children featured in your future plans."

"What do you know about my future plans then?"

"Nothing apparently," she replied sheepishly. She could tell he didn't like where this conversation was going by the slight hint of an irate tone in his last reply. She didn't want to argue with him now, not while she was so comfortable and warm for the first time in over a day.

"I've got all sorts o' plans, me," he continued, not wanting to argue with her either. "Take me son to, alas, a poofter London club for his first match. Hummm… hope he wouldn't end up supporting them. No - better take him to Manchester just to be on the safe side. Or… if I had a daughter and she didn't like footie, then we could go to the zoo or summat. What else do little girls like? Fucked if I'm going to the ballet… what about… Yeah. Fuck it. She'll like football, just like her ol' man. Kids can get in for nothing when they're small enough to sit on yer knee. Two knees, two kids. Three for the price o' one!"

She leaned back and smiled up at him. "Always looking for ways to beat the system, aren't you? In the meantime, what's their poor mother supposed to do when you're off having a great time?"

"She could come too 'cause plenty of women do now. Best if she did an' all. One of the kids would be sitting on me bad leg, so she could take that one."

"What bad leg?" she asked quizzically. "You don't have a bad leg!"

"Oh really? Well, that big bum o' yours ain't perched on me right leg, is it?"

"You're having me on!"

"'Scuse me! I were shot in that leg, _twice_, with a pump action shotgun. And them dopey doctor bastards never did get all the bits o' shot out. Ruddy great big scar on it too."

Alex was mortified. "Oh Gene! I'm sorry! I forgot you were shot… God. I have a real knack for putting my foot in my mouth this evening, don't I?"

He snorted with laughter. "Battle scars Bolly. Worn with pride."

"Does your leg bother you?"

"Nah. Only if it gets very cold or if someone plonks herself right on it," he gave her an affectionate squeeze. "So for that reason, I hope the kids inherit my delicate, svelte figure and not yours… err… _shit_… I mean… errr…"

His face had turned a lovely shade of red and she couldn't resist making him squirm. "Hummm. What _do_ you mean?" she said in a deadly calm voice, teasing him.

Two could play at that game and Gene knew exactly what she was up to. Who'd give in first? "Obviously I meant," he breathed in her ear, "that _our_ kids should inherit _your_ delicate, svelte figure and not mine. Slip o' the tongue on that one aspect." He placed a light kiss just below her ear, blowing warm air onto her neck.

Alex shivered involuntarily and a slow grin spread across his face. _Nobody_ played the Gene Geni- _erk!_

"Are you sure this leg doesn't bother you?" she purred throatily, one hand creeping up his right thigh, the other threading its way through the hair at the back of his head.

"Now that you mention it," he croaked (_damn!_), "it's a bit sore. Want to kiss it better?"

"Anything else you'd like me to do when I'm down there?" she asked nonchalantly, with a wide-eyed innocent look. She brushed her lips against his.

"Whatever else you find that might be as stiff as me leg, you're welcome to look after in the same tender way," he growled and leaned in close to her, lips millimetres from hers. One of his hands found its way under her jumper but didn't go under her pyjama top. It inched slowly up her ribcage, alternating between gathering and smoothing the material as it climbed higher. "You got any bumps you want me to take a look at?"

"Mmmm… one or… two," she murmured, moving in and capturing his lips with hers again. One of his fingers grazed the underside of her breast and she sucked in a breath.

All of a sudden it wasn't a game anymore. Gene's eyes darkened and hers flickered shut as her head tilted back slowly. He kissed her throat and she gave a small moan of delight. Her hand at the back of his head pulled him closer as he found her lips again.

Suddenly, there was an almighty bang from the kitchen, like a gunshot, which echoed through the house and Gene almost dropped her in fright. Alex scrambled to her feet and reached for her gun. Where was it? _Where was it?_ Her hands frantically searched the armchair, pulling Gene to his feet in the process. He trod on something cold and hard.

"Found it," he gasped, handing it to her.

She released the safety and pushed him back into the armchair. "Don't move," she hissed, deadly serious as she shoved the jumper's long sleeves back up her arms.

He had no intention of moving. The last thing she needed was him getting into her line of fire. She knew where he was and that's where he would stay. His heart was pounding as she inched towards the kitchen door.

Counting to three, she flung it open and saw… nothing. There was nobody there. She checked the room thoroughly; certain that the bang had come from there. Cautiously, she checked out the rest of the house but there wasn't a hint of anything amiss. It took her a few minutes to complete her search before she headed back to the kitchen and looked at it again. Everything was in its place, the window was intact, the door wasn't marked and the neighbour's dog was quiet. Normally, as Gene was wont to say, if a mouse farted outside the stupid mutt would bark its head off for a good half hour but not tonight.

There was no clue as to where the shot had come from. Alex sniffed. A burning sulphur smell permeated the air. Then her eyes noticed a white mess beside the cooker and on the wall behind it.

She took a cautious step forward and then let out a shaky breath, clicking the safety back into place on her gun.

"Gene!" she called, surprised at her unsteady voice.

He was at her side in an instant. "You okay??"

"You forgot about your egg. It exploded," she said pointing to the mess on top of the cooker.

"_Shit_!"

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry so she settled for a mixture of both. She opened the back door and tossed the stinking saucepan outside while he turned off the cooker.

"Fuckin' HELL," he breathed, his heart still pounding. He reached out and pulled her towards him in a one armed hug. "Sorry Bolls."

She could feel tremors running through him so she wrapped both arms around him tightly and he did the same to her. They stayed like that for some time until the adrenaline and fright wore off.

Alex broke the comfortable silence. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm good," she replied and released her hold on him.

They took a step back from each other. Gene knew she was upset and he also knew that it wasn't just from the fright. She rubbed a hand tiredly across her eyes.

"Gene-"

"Don't say it Bolls. It'll be okay."

"No, I have to say it," she persisted. "I'm supposed to be watching out for you here not… not… falling into bed with you."

"We weren't in bed," he said dryly.

"I'm not supposed to be having sex with you," she said very bluntly and it made him inwardly wince. She was a lot angrier than he realised so he wasn't going to tease her further.

"Look-"

She held up her hand. "Please… just let me say this and then tell me what you think. Whatever this thing is between us, or whatever it's going to be, I'm… I'm happy about it. I'm excited and nervous and I really hope we don't screw it all up. But it can't happen now. It just can't Gene. Thank God it was only an egg this evening. If it had been anything else we'd both be dead right now. Jesus… I couldn't even find my gun and when I did I couldn't get my hand out from the sleeve of your jumper. So, let's not do what we were doing in there again until this case is closed. That's my plan. What do you think?"

"Seems like you've made up yer mind," he said somewhat crossly.

"No. I want to know what you think," she repeated.

"Yeah, sure you do," he snapped at her and instantly regretted it.

"I don't get you Gene," she replied crossly. "You blow hot and cold on me, _literally_, and I can't figure you out. I'm asking you to tell me what you think but here we are again; you going all weird on me!

"_I'm weird??_ _ME!?_ I-"

She wasn't having it and continued as if he didn't speak. "Yes _YOU_, Gene. Weird! At the start, all I _ever_ did was hug you once or twice or maybe hold your hand and I didn't mean it to be anything other than support and friendship. But lately, at YOUR instigation, we moved beyond that point and I thought you enjoyed it. But when I held you the other night, _you_ freaked out. You couldn't get away from me fast enough!! And tonight… Jesus… what the hell was that? It started out as a bit of fun, I thought, and then it changed. Did you really mean it or were you still just teasing me? I don't understand you! _I just don't know what you want_!"

Then, to her complete horror, her eyes filled with tears. She was a specially trained psychologist! She should be able to understand him but she simply could _not_ figure him out. And it was driving her crazy!

"Whatever I feel about you, I can't for one second believe that you'd want _me_!" he responded, a feeling of desperation rising in his chest. "_You an' me??_ No way! So, I'd rather we just keep up the pretence of 'what if' rather than you… than you…"

"Than I what?"

"Nothin'."

"Oh no!! No you don't! Don't you dare back out now! Finish what you were going to say!" she demanded, hands planted firmly on hips.

"You really want to do this now? A four o'cl-"

"Yes! _Now_! Finish what you were going to say!" she demanded, seriously annoyed with him.

Okay. She wanted to know? He'd tell her and be damned.

"I'd rather hold onto the _fantasy_ of you than have the _reality_ of you leaving me! How could a woman like you even look twice at a man like me? I've got ten years on you and frankly, they're ten smoke and booze filled years which have taken their toll! You don't want me!"

Alex snorted. How bloody typical. A man telling her what she wanted. "And you know what I want?"

Gene looked at her sadly. This was the moment he had been dreading. He spoke in an almost whisper. "Yeah Bolls. I do."

"You mind sharing it with me?"

"Seems like you would know as you've told me often enough. You want to go "home", wherever the fuck that is! You want to get back to yer old life and I know… _I know_ ypu weren't including me in that picture. I've always known it."

"That's not… that-"

He was the one who pressed on now, not giving her the opportunity to break his thoughts. He couldn't take any more of this uncertainty and it was make or break time. He needed to know, one way or another. "I couldn't help kissing you those times and I've wanted to do so much more. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever… I've ever seen. You crashed into my life and I haven't been right since…" he trailed off, unable to finish as she looked so thoroughly shocked.

It's no wonder she looked shocked because that's exactly how she felt. She thought she had this all worked out. But what he had said was perfectly true and yet, it was utterly ridiculous at the same time. Why would he think that she'd leave him? Was it not obvious that she had nowhere to go?

He took her shocked silence as confirmation that he had hit the nail on the head. She was going to leave him and he damn near cried.

"And that, Alex, is _exactly_ what I've been dreading. Some morning, you're going to wake up and decide you're going to go. You won't hesitate, not for a second and I know you won't look back at me. I'm a clapped out copper, headed for the shit-heap of administrative bollocks, and you've got this whole other life where you'd rather be. I don't know how our paths ever crossed and sometimes I wish they never did. Other times? I wish… I wish we could be together always."

Gene swallowed. This wasn't supposed to happen to him. He was the Manc Lion, for fuck's sake! This pathetic scene happened to other old codgers who were so fuckin' desperate for a woman that they'd have shagged Maggie Thatcher if she looked at them sideways. Gene Hunt wasn't supposed to be standing in his kitchen, in his bloody pyjamas, feeling knackered and worn out, as a beautiful woman walked away from him.

But Gene was wrong. Alex wasn't shocked because her plan was to leave. Her plan was to stay. She made her decision and she realised, in a moment of blinding clarity that she was here, with him, _now_. Someday it might all end just as suddenly as it began. She didn't know when and she didn't know how. It's not like she had even to choose between staying here and waking up. There was no choice because she couldn't just "wake up."

This reality is what she had and where she existed. If she were ever faced with a choice she'd deal with it then. There was no point worrying so much about choices and heartbreak and death that she forgot how to live. Whatever living even _meant_ any more. So there was only one thing to do. Go with her instinct and cope with whatever happened.

She moved to stand in front of him and cupped his face gently. "What if I already woke up and realised that I was exactly where I wanted to be? What if I felt that way every morning since? What if I loved this clapped out copper dearly? What if he's the person I want to see when I wake up and the last thing I want to see when I close my eyes? What then?"

"But… that's not true," he whispered softly, desperately wanting to believe her but bracing himself for heartbreak. "You want your daughter."

"I do. But I realise now that I can't have her. No more than you can have yours."

"Is she… is she dead?"

Alex swallowed hard. "I can't think of her like that. Please… just… think of her in another world. In another time. I have to believe that and I know it sounds utterly mad to you but I just have to believe it."

Gene shrugged. "It doesn't sound mad. Janey went asleep and doesn't know yet that I couldn't wake her up. I will someday. Some _time_."

"So… you… you understand me?" she whispered through tears.

Gene brushed them gently away with a smile. "'Course not Bolly, you crazy, bizarre, beautiful woman you! But I know what it's like to have a child that you can't reach. So you hang on to what you believe in and you keep it close to your heart. It's yours and you don't need me, or anyone else, to understand it."

"Oh God Gene I miss her so much," she cried, all her loss and sorrow suddenly bubbling to the surface from where she had hidden it for months. "I miss my little girl. I miss her hand in mine, I miss her smell, I miss her smile. I don't think I'll ever be a whole person without her."

He held her tightly while she cried, knowing how important this step was and also knowing how he had run away from it once before. But he was done with all the running. It had brought him nothing but more pain and distress than he could have ever imagined. As upsetting as it was to see her crumble, he wanted to be here and help her experience the grief.

In the morning, she would have taken a tiny step forward and everyday she would take another. It would never fully leave her, just as it have never left him, but she wasn't going to experience the hell that he went through. That he put his wife through. He was no miracle worker but he would do anything to spare her that. So, for the first time, he stood tall and held a woman who sobbed over a lost child and let her take whatever strength he could offer. They would both be stronger for it.

It had been a long night and was now it was dawn. Gene figured that she needed to be at home to get some rest and he needed to be with her. They could afford to take a few hours just for themselves. A few hours just to regroup and focus on what they had to do. He knew she right about their relationship – it couldn't go anywhere until they could focus on just themselves. Right now, there was too much at stake and they both cared about each other too much to throw it all away for a moments passion.

Feeling the storm of tears eventually ease and seeing that she was beginning to relax, he whispered quietly, "Come on luv. Let's get you home."

Alex took a shuddering breath and looked straight into his eyes. With a sad smile she uttered the words that completed his world.

"Gene? I _am_ home."

.oOo.


	9. Chapter 9

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: I know. I'm a horrible updater. This is for all of you who offered encouragement and threatened a prod with the occasional pitchfork. As the Laziest Bugger, I have a list of excuses as long as your arm so I won't bore you all with the litany. Just… thanks for everything and I hope you enjoy this.

* * *

Alex woke slowly, vaguely aware of a downpour outside. She was warm and comfortable and wished she didn't have to go to wo… _Christ!_ She sat bolt upright with a startled jump.

There was a low groan from the covered heap beside her.

"Gene?"

"No," he growled and pulled the duvet up around his ears.

She smiled and lay down again, giving him a soft nudge with her leg. "Morning."

He sighed and rolled over to face her with his eyes still closed. Sleepily, he dragged one arm out from under his cocoon and placed it around her. "Go 'sleep."

She smiled but there was no way she could go back to sleep now. Not with a rumpled looking Gene right beside her. Astonished at the wave of tenderness that swept over her, she moved to wrap her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered, kissing his forehead.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face. "Only fer you," he whispered back and pressed close to her, back asleep almost immediately not having woken up properly.

She gave him a gentle squeeze and looked fondly down at him. He was tucked up beside her, his face buried between her shoulder and neck, breathing peacefully. She matched her breathing to his and didn't move a muscle until she was sure he was out for the count. Dozing lightly, she checked the clock the next time she snapped back to consciousness. It was half seven and they'd have to get going soon but for now, she was more than content to stay there, holding him close, especially considering the way he looked after her the previous evening.

She smiled as she remembered how caring he had been. After she had told that home was wherever he was, he had kissed her gently, wiping away the tears tracks from her face. "You sure Alex?"

She nodded and leaned into him. "Can't be without you."

"You don't have to be," he whispered. "Stay with me."

They were the only words they spoke for the rest of the night. She let him lead her up the stairs and without any doubts, she crawled into his bed and arms. Worn out from the fright from the exploding egg, their argument, the release of emotions and from crying, Alex was too tired to rest. Her head was buzzing, snippets of conversations, images of Molly and frantic thoughts bubbled to the surface as she tried to relax. Gene was content to wait out her fidgets and calmed her by keeping his own thoughts and feelings to himself. All he did was occasionally wind one of her curls around his finger and watch the silky hair gradually uncoil itself and return to the other curls scattered on her pillow. She had found this soothing and it was the last thing she remembered before she eventually drifted off.

This was unchartered territory for Alex and she hoped she wouldn't muck it up. Knowing now what a relationship felt like that was built on friendship, respect, attraction and… love, she had to admit her marriage had been doomed from the start. Were it not for Molly, she could very easily regret those years of heartache she put herself through. She never wanted to experience that again, nor did she want to inflict the sour silences and gradual loathing on anyone else, especially the man in her arms. Hurting Gene, who had been through so much, was something she couldn't countenance. If they were going to do this, she prayed that she would be happy and make him happy in return. She gave a quiet snort of laughter. Happy with Gene Hunt? How the _hell_ had that happened?

"You don't half think loudly," came his rough voice from her shoulder. "You're ponderin' things and it's making me nervous. Shush!"

She gave him another gentle squeeze. "I'm only pondering nice things."

"Not half as nice as the things I'm pondering I'll bet," he grinned, moving away from her with a quick kiss and hopping out of bed. "Going to grab a shower and get meself going."

"Can't we have the day off?"

"No we bloody can't. Get moving Drake before I come over there and make you," he threatened playfully.

"Oh, the big bad Gene Hunt is after me," she replied, sticking her tongue out at him before she rolled over, snuggling under the warm covers where he had been only a few moments ago.

He shrugged nonchalantly. Before she knew what happened the duvet was whipped away and the mattress tipped up, rolling her towards the floor. She shrieked with laughter and tried valiantly to fling a pillow at him but he ducked out the door.

"Get that arse moving!" he called. "And I'll have a brew, ta!" The bathroom door banged shut.

Alex huffed but couldn't keep the smile off her face. A smile which quickly changed into a wicked grin. She waited until she heard the shower running and then scampered down the stairs to the kitchen. Right about now would be perfect. She turned on the hot tap fully and waited.

"ARRGHH!!" came the astonished cry from upstairs as the cold water engulfed him. "AHH!! Fucking freezing!! ALEX!! Turn that sodding tap off!!"

She laughed loudly and was then consumed by a fit of the giggles.

"_ALEX!!_" There was a thump, a crash, some pounding steps and towel-clad Gene bounced into the kitchen and turned the tap off in a few sharp twists. "What the bloody hell do you th…" he trailed off. The sight of Alex, doubled over with giggles, was enough transform his annoyance into amusement almost instantly. "You enjoying yourself, Bolly Knickers?"

She gasped out a yes.

He had to touch her. He straightened her up, brushed the hair back from her laughing face and kissed her. "Good to see you smile," he whispered before releasing her.

But Alex didn't release him and placed her arms around his neck, drawing him back down for another kiss, relishing in the feel of his wet skin under her hands. Her hands stroked his shoulders as they kissed and gradually she trailed them down his back, following his spine and letting them rest at the towel around his waist.

"Christ," he muttered against her lips before kissing her again. "We… Alex… no… stop." The last word was a barely audible whisper. "Can't luv. No time. Not like this."

"I know. I know. Sorry – couldn't help it," she replied with a smile but was reluctant to let him go. She ran both her hands over his bum and gave it a proper squeeze.

"OI!" he yelped and jumped away from her. "You cheeky mare!"

"Going to report me for sexual harassment, Guv?" she twinkled at him.

"Too bloody right I will! But only after you grope me arse again. Or, perhaps a few times at the very least. Start now," he teased her and turned around, waiting for her to cop another feel.

He got a swift spank instead. "Hop it mister! I'd like a shower _today_ please," came the reply as she reached around him for a mug.

"Bloody hell… bloke can't even get a good grope when he wants it," he grumbled cheerfully and turned to leave but not before Alex gave him a swift hug and kissed his retreating shoulder.

Gene smiled to himself as he went back upstairs. Happy with Alex Drake? Huh! Who the hell knew? But that's what had happened. Most definitely.

* * *

The two of them spent the day going every shred of detail they had about the case and it was slow, tedious work. They both knew every aspect of the case in so much detail that it was frustrating to go through it step by step to make sure nothing had been missed. Alex began to question her decision that Chris and Ray would not make contact unless it was an emergency. She was anxious to know how they were doing and what, if anything, had they uncovered. However, they both were following her instructions to the letter; Chris hadn't even rung Shaz.

There were no more kisses or cuddles between Alex and Gene that day either. Both of them were tired and worked solidly on the case plus the others which arrived onto the CID desks. There was nothing major, the usual gamut of drug related deaths, murders, robberies and general "à la carte scum crime" as Gene was wont to say. They were also trying to stick to their agreement that their relationship was essentially on hold until Operation Wing was tied up in a neat little bow. So, it was easier, for both of them, to be a bit reserved around each other.

Sometimes Gene's gaze burnt into her with an intensity that made her heart flutter. That evening it was enough to know that they were in the same house, even when he was watching the telly and she was upstairs. Gene felt… funny. He couldn't put his finger on what she did to him but whatever it was, he could only describe it as "right" when she was there and "wrong" when she wasn't. He felt right; not in a "right about another case" sort of way but everything about him was right. He could think better when he could bounce ideas off her. He could work better knowing that she was helping. He could focus better knowing that she was doing the same thing.

He thought working with Alex, now that things between them were changing, would be a distraction but in fact, it had turned out to be quite the opposite. The distraction was when he didn't know where he stood with her. Now that he knew they were making progress, even if it was slow, he could relax. She wasn't about to head off into the sunset and leave him. Worse, she wasn't about to head off with a twat like that solicitor Evan bloke. She was sticking around and she _wanted_ to be with him. He trusted her completely, just as he knew she trusted him.

When he thought about that trust, he could get a little panicky. After all, he had fucked up more relationships than he could count. Fucking things up with Alex was unthinkable but he knew what he was like. Putting his two bloody great big feet straight into it without thinking.

He wasn't a sunbeam of happiness when he thought about things like that. Gene was still very much his morose self when left to his own devices. He wanted all this bloody case nonsense to end and he desperately wanted Alex all to himself. This was another reason why he kept her at arms length. If he kissed her again he was convinced he wouldn't be able to let her go. It took all of his willpower to keep him from the happy, but temporary, oblivion obtained from a bottle of Luigi's house rubbish. It took even more willpower to keep him from smoking his way through packet after packet. He still smoked and he still drank but nothing like before. That took effort, huge effort, and his willpower was tested to the limits and beyond. Add Alex into that mix and he wasn't going to be responsible for what happened.

* * *

In the office on Friday, Gene squared his shoulders and indicated to Alex that she should come with him. She left her desk and followed him out the doors, towards the stairs. He pushed the door to the stairwell open for her and following her though, he let it swing shut behind them.

"Where are we-"

"It's Friday Bolls. Got to give the Super his answer today. Now."

Alex had completely forgotten that he had to do this. That certainly accounted for his rather quiet mood. She slipped both hands into his. "Oh Gene…"

He ran his thumbs over her knuckles. "It's okay Bolly. I just… I… can you wait outside his office for me until I get out of there?"

"Where else would I be?" she replied. "Let's go."

They trudged up the stairs to the admin floor, Gene feeling each step getting harder and harder to take. "Here goes nothing," he sighed and with a final look at her, he pushed open the door to the Super's offices.

Alex took a seat in the corridor and picked up a newspaper which she idly scanned, her mind in the other room with Gene. What was going on? She hoped that everything the Super had said would materialise and that they weren't going to change their minds about him. Suddenly the door opened and he was there.

"Gene?"

"Roof," was his reply and he took her by the elbow, hurrying her up the last flight of stairs and outside. He leaned heavily on the guardrail for a moment and then turned to her, burying his face in her hair.

After a moment, she stood back from him and cupped his face in her hands. There were tears in his eyes and her heart ached for him, even though it was a happy moment. "It _will_ be okay love," she whispered.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and sniffed, nodding his head slowly. "It'll be weird."

"Detective Superintendent Gene Hunt is not weird," she replied. "Not much, anyways."

"I still have to face the Board," he said, clutching at his last straw. Maybe they would turn him down and let him stay on the streets where he was better suited.

Alex gave him a knowing look and one filled with such understanding that he dropped his gaze. She knew, just as much as he did, that the Board was a formality now.

"I'll go back down," she said eventually, sensing that he could do with some time on his own before returning to CID. "Take a few minutes and I'll see you down there."

He nodded mutely and watched her go. "Alex!" he called, just as she reached the door.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

She gave him one of her rare dazzling smiles, blew a kiss at him and hurried down the stairs before she threw herself into his arms. It what she wanted to do. Take him home, kiss him senseless and then make love to him until they were both exhausted. But that would have to wait and knowing that they were going to be together, but apart, this evening only made it worse. She would have to make sure they went some place nice for dinner at the very least. This day could not pass by without someone marking the occasion with him. She figured she'd have to pick a place that they could linger over their meal, have a glass of wine and walk home late, tiring themselves out. If she reached the house and still felt like she currently did, well, she couldn't be held responsible for what would be bound to happen.

* * *

Despite his protests that going to dinner a posh place should wait, Alex had insisted. "This is an important occasion Gene and no bloody case is worth putting your life on hold to the extent where we can't even go out to dinner! So hurry up and get changed. The taxi will be here at seven thirty. Go! Scoot!"

She hurried him up the stairs and would not listen to any further excuses or procrastinations. She changed into a light blue dress and he put on his best suit, a dark navy pinstripe. He had to admit, they looked good together and he felt about ten feet tall when he walked into the restaurant with Alex on his arm. They spent a wonderful evening, and the occasional times when hands brushed or eyes met, sent tingles through them both. They were the last people in the restaurant and the waiter was discreet enough to leave them alone in their corner, until the time came to close the place up. He stood in Gene's peripheral vision until he was noticed and good naturedly, gave them as much privacy as possible while indicating that they had to leave.

Alex insisted on paying the bill and at this stage, with four large glasses of wine on board, he was too obliging to argue with her. She also insisted that they walk towards home and for the life of him, he couldn't work out why she wanted to walk in those ridiculous heals of hers. Anyway, he liked walking with her and had missed it. They ambled along and before he knew it, they were at Paddington Station. It was almost two o'clock in the morning when they reached the house and he was exhausted. He thanked her again, kissed her forehead briefly and trudged up the stairs to bed.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief that she had been able to keep her hands off him and soon went to her own bed. But not before she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she took off her makeup. Her face was tinged with a rosy pink hue, her eyes were sparkling despite the tiredness and she looked… joyful. She felt butterflies of delight in her stomach as she realised something. She loved him.

* * *

They spent the weekend trying to catch up on numerous cases that were backing up. With Chris and Ray not around, the work was slower and he couldn't dispatch them off to find out the info they needed. There was also an inquest into recent the drug deaths looming and he hadn't prepared anything for the coroner; a person not known for his geniality of spirit. Gene despised the uptight prick. Thankfully, Alex stepped in and together with Shaz, started to put those cases in order for him. She sensed that if the coroner and Gene crossed swords again, there would be blood. People like coroners were useful to keep on-side, even if some of them did preside over their jurisdictions like little tinpot dictators. Alex got along far better with the pathologists who understood better than most what it was like to be on the receiving end of a coroner's questions when things went wrong. Inquests were always sad occasions and having Gene attend, with files that were untidy and not finalised, would do nobody any favours. She quickly scanned through another report from the pathologist and slotted it into its correct file. Then she found a handwritten statement from a witness that needed to be typed up, so she handed it to Shaz and explained what she wanted done.

Gene was watching her, working away in the outer office. She was giving Shaz something to type up and her face was animated. Seeing her like this, he began to realise that he and the Super had it all wrong. Alex wasn't wasted in CID. Her skills had assisted in solving more cases than he could count at this stage. She thought differently to the rest of them and it was productive. Vital, in fact. There had to be a way of letting her do what she was best at while utilising her skills to the Met's best advantage. He didn't know how to go about it and also, didn't want to be seen as showing her some favouritism. Even though Alex was going to earn whatever she got in this job, the fact that she was with him would always leave her open for attack. It was different for him. If people thought he got to be a Superintendent because of her brain, people might grumble but it wouldn't stand against him. He could see where their relationship could work against her. For the first time, he realised how difficult it was to be a woman in a man's world. It made him angry that people would detract from her ability just because of him. Not for the first time, he wondered what in God's name was she was doing with him?

That evening Gene was more silent than usual. She noticed that he hardly touched his dinner in Luigi's and was very quiet as they drove back to his house. Chris and Ray were due back the following morning and he wasn't even interested in talking about how they were going to proceed once all the information had been collated.

All he said about it was, "Let's see what they have first and then we'll decide what to do."

She watched the nine o'clock news with him but he wasn't really paying attention to that either. He twirled the Audi's keys around a finger or by the police whistle attached to the key ring. For someone who got nervous when she was "thinking things" he certainly knew how to transmit an air of nervousness himself. Whatever was bothering him, she wished _he_ could think quietly!

She turned off the TV with a sigh. "What is it?"

He snapped out of it for a moment, "Nothing for you to worry that pretty little head o' yours about," he smiled gently and reached for her hand. "I'm just thinkin' about a few things the Super said. Mulling it over."

"Are you patronising me?" she replied, not sure if he was serious or not.

"'Course not, dimbo," came the disgruntled reply. "I'm still thinkin' about what to do with you. You know – after the Super said you were wasted in CID."

"And I keep reminding you that you're not the Super yet so stop worrying about it," she chided him gently.

"Can't. Been thinkin' that you being with me might become a bit of a problem for you. And I don't want that to happen but can't see a way around it," he said honestly.

"I can," she said almost immediately. Obviously she had been thinking bout this too.

"Care to share with those of us in the cheap seats?"

"Simple. Were you still my DCI, then people would be making all sorts of outrageous allegations. Not that I care at all but still… life might have become _uncomfortable_, shall we say. But now, you'll be the Superintendent. Tell me Gene, just how many Supers do you know who will make decisions for DIs?"

"Bugger all."

"Exactly. I'll have a DCI to answer to and the DCI will answer to you. We've got a buffer zone between us and nobody will be able to accuses you, or me, of showing favouritism or of only picking the choice cases."

He nodded and agreed with her. She had a way of putting things that made it all seem so simple. "You will go easy on this new DCI person, won't yer Bolls? Not everyone can take your hard graft," he teased.

"If I get a DCI who doesn't threaten dislocate every door in CID from its hinges and Chris's arms from his shoulders then I might lay off a bit," she teased back.

"The poor bastard," muttered Gene to himself. "Hope whoever the unfortunate bugger is, that he knows what he's getting into when he signs those transfer papers."

"Do you know who's up for DCI?" she asked, serious all of a sudden.

"Haven't a clue Bolls. McKenna mentioned that there are people waiting so who the fuck knows? Could be some Scouser for all I know. Not anyone local – I know that much."

"Could be a Chelsea supporting tosser," she added, making his nightmare worse.

"Could be a Man United supporting poofter," he said, dragging it down to his lowest common denominator. "I'll make his life hell."

"Could be a woman."

He shrugged. "I'd be fine with that. Unless she's a lezzer and puts the moves on you."

"Glad to know that you're not threatened by homosexuality, male or female, any more Gene," she commented dryly.

He flicked a crisp at her. "More ruddy threatened by a Scouser, if I'm honest," he grinned. "Can't have the whole of friggin' CID running around going,_ we do dat dough, don't we dough?_" Gene squeaked the last bit in an appalling Liverpool accent which made her laugh.

"I suppose there's always going to be someone who has to be bottom of the accent pile," she said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Like you would know, Missus Prattle Posh-Pants."

"I do not _prattle_!"

"You do an' all," he retorted, getting to his feet. "But I'm immune to it now."

She pretended to be in a huff and wouldn't look at him, turning her head away in an exaggerated fashion.

"Jesus, forget Missus Prattle Posh-Pants. I should call you Lady Witter Huffington instead," he said, hoping to raise a smile.

He did.

"Oh Gene!" she laughed, her pretend huff forgotten. "How do you come up with the names?"

"Fuck all else to do with me day," he retorted. "Goodnight _Alexandra_. See you bright an' early, yes?"

"Goodnight _Eugene_. Sleep well."

There was a snort of suppressed laughter from behind the door as it closed. He no longer feared he could get used to this – he hoped it would never end. Bolly could give as good as she got and while he was in no doubt that they would have their argumentative moments, he was also learning what made her laugh. Beneath it all, she loved a wind-up just as much as he did. And he loved her for it.

* * *

The following morning was a flurry of activity as they hurried to meet the train with the returning Chris and Ray. They went into CID earlier and had everything ready and before leaving for the station. Gene was almost hopping from one foot to the other when the train was delayed by half an hour. Eventually, it trundled into view and had barely stopped before Ray jumped out of one of the carriages, followed by a sleepy looking Chris. Once everyone was greeted and before Gene started to interrogate the two officers right in the middle of Euston station, Alex ushered them all towards the car and drove to Fenchurch as fast as she could.

Once they were all ensconced in CID, they set to work. Ray and Chris put all their information together, dispatching Shaz with various errands and queries. The place was bustling with activity and Gene prowled about, looking over shoulders, asking questions and making sure that no detail was deemed too insignificant. Everyone worked together, barely stopping to grab some lunch and later, some dinner. By evening, things were looking good and by eight o'clock it was decided that it was time to put it all together. This was the moment they had been waiting on for so long and Alex was nervous. She had been watching Ray and Chris all day and something was definitely up but she couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It was the moment of truth and it couldn't come soon enough.

Gene asked for a whiteboard so they could map out what was going to be discussed and Chris readily obliged. The noise in CID was approaching deafening levels so he clapped his hands together with a resounding crack. "Will you lot _SHUT UP_!?" he bellowed. "And get me the _blank_ whiteboard numbnuts!!" he barked at Chris.

Chris scrambled to the opposite end of the office and pushed the whiteboard that had the squeaky wheel towards the Guv.

Squeak! _Squeak_! Squeak! _Squeak_! Squeak! _Squeak_!

Gene glowered as Chris fussed, getting the board in exactly the right position. Alex smiled and bit her lips hurriedly. If Gene caught her smiling he would be just as likely to bawl her out of it too.

Squeak!

Chris made another minor adjustment.

_Squeak!_

Alex stifled a laugh and disguised it as a cough.

Squeak!

He went to push the board again.

"Touch that fucking thing again Christopher and it'll be your arse that squeaks. I shit you not," threatened Gene darkly.

Alex bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

Chris jumped away from the board and resumed his seat beside Ray who was sniggering into his collar. No way would he let the Guv see the grin either.

"Are we done?" snarked Gene at them, knowing exactly what was going on. "Right. Let's go through this, point by point. 1973, me an' Sam pick up that paddy scrot-"

Alex coughed discretely and Gene shot her a look.

"Me an' Sam detain one Patrick O'Brien," he continued, correcting his more colourful language and writing on the board. "We don't arrest him at first and I give him a bit of a going over. Not one of my finest moments, wouldn't you say DI Drake?"

Alex inclined her head in agreement as Gene scribbled on the board again.

"After having O'Brien in my sights for some time, it turned out 'e wasn't involved at all. Neither was the IRA. But O'Brien dropped some heavy hints. _Hi ho! Hi ho! To the IRA I go!!_ That sort of thing. Raymondo, what have you been able to find out about this?"

"Nothin' Guv. If he joined up, nobody seems to know. Or if they do, they're not talkin'. It took me long enough just to get close to some of the reliable crowd. They keep their heads down and noses clean. They don't know anythin' about him. Never even heard o' him. There's nothin'." He seemed disappointed that he hadn't received some useful information.

"Thanks Ray," said Alex. "At least now we know O'Brien isn't in the IRA."

"Cheers Boss!" he replied, turning to face her with a small smile.

"Right. So we can draw a line through that. If he was well connected you'd had found sweet fuck all. As it happens, he's still the useless turd he always was," explained Gene, drawing a line through O'Brien's IRA connections. "I didn't think they'd touch him but Bolly here wanted us _to be certain_. Didn'tcha Bolls?"

"I believe it's better to be safe than sorry," she replied, looking directly at him. He knew bloody well why she felt that way.

"I'm not disagreeing with yer," he replied, catching her look. "Okay then. From our colleagues in Manchester, we also know that O'Brien is still on the periphery of police attention but for petty thievin' and the like. Nothin' major. They also do not believe, or have reason to believe, that he is involved with the IRA but they can't confirm it, one way or another. They didn't do the legwork that Raymondo here did. Tossers. Okay – what about how the IRA put the frighteners on people?"

Again Ray shook his head. "I got nothin' there either Guv. I couldn't press the issue. Far too suspicious and cosy with each other, that lot. But from what I've been able to figure out from Branch in Manchester and from working with DI Crane, this just isn't their style. A warning from them might be a kicking in a dark alley. Or a kneecapping either by bullet or baseball bat. On one or two occasions, there have been letters but stating the far more bleedin' obvious than your note. Letters like, "Get the fuck out of this town before Monday or you're a dead man." That sorta thing. This cloak and dagger bollocks just doesn't fit but… who the hell knows? Can't rule it out but can't rule it in neither."

"Still useful to know all this shit," said Gene, scribbling furiously on the board and drawing lines, linking what Ray said to other bits and pieces. "Well done Raymondo. Be sure to account for your budget in yer report. All three hundred quids worth."

"All of it?"

"It weren't fuckin' Tooth Fairy money, Sergeant," grinned Gene at him. "I better not see Bessie's Best Brothel on the receipts!"

"'Course not Guv! I didn't have the time to visit the knockin' shops!" protested Ray and then turned scarlet when he realised what he said. The office erupted into laughter, including Gene who tossed a marker at Ray's head.

"You pillock!" he teased. "Remember Raymondo. The number for the special clinic's on the fridge door!"

"Oh fuck off, the lot o' you," muttered Ray, still scarlet.

"Right! All right! While our erstwhile Sergeant cools his blushes here, Chris, what did you find out during yer trip back to the home turf?" continued Gene, all business again.

Chris got to his feet nervously, hoping he would do this right. He was certain he done his best and he just hoped the Guv and the Boss would agree. He cleared his throat and began.

"O'Brien isn't much use at any job he gets. Can't hold down a job for more than a few months. He can be flush with cash from time to time – likes a flutter and is remarkably good at pickin' winners. Studies form on the horses like nobody else. Pays off apparently. Now, when he has money, he likes to splash it about. Gives a good bit to his wife. He separated from the missus last year and she has the three little kiddies. O'Brien doesn't get to see them that often. Anyway, then he spends the rest on himself. Blows the lot on something stupid, rather than clearing off debts and the like. Now, here's the best bit. It took a bit of work but I managed to find out if he went to the Spurs game in November. He did."

"Excellent work Christopher. _Excellent_," beamed Gene at him. Chris blushed.

"That's not all Guv. This came through this afternoon." He handed Gene a fax from Manchester. "I wanted to try and find out where he got his ticket from. He bought it off the bookie on Chapel Street. The same place where he spends most of his extra cash."

"'Ow did yer find that out?" asked Ray, stunned at his friend's ingenuity which was usually kept well hidden.

"Sent a mate's snout to O'Brien, lookin' for a ticket to the next game," explained Chris proudly. "Only cost me a tenner."

"And what, may I ask, is this fax about then?" asked Gene, waving it in front of Chris.

"This is the bookie's customer reference number for his season ticket. Jammy bastard gets tickets to all City home _and_ away games. Very well connected, is this bloke."

"You are _shittin'_ me!" breathed Gene. "O'Brien used a season ticket? So we know where he was-"

"He was sittin' five rows behind ye Guv. To your left," finished Chris triumphantly. "I checked with the Spurs people just half an hour ago."

The room erupted again but this time with cheers and exclamations of surprise.

"Christopher, you are obviously not as stupid as you look," grinned Gene, giving Chris a hearty thump on the back. "You dozy bugger!! C'mere!!" He caught Chris in a huge one-armed bear hug around the neck and squeezed hard.

"Arggh… Guv…" gasped Chris, rosy red with delight. "Gerroff!"

Gene let him go and scrawled SOLVED across the board. People were milling around, clapping and hooting with delight. They were slapping Chris on the back, shaking his hand and grinning at the Guv, patting his shoulder too. Glad that he was out of the woods and could be free of the threat that had been hanging over him for far too long.

"Wait!! Wait!!" cried Alex, clapping her hands in a desperate attempt to be heard. "Stop!! Shush!! Everyone!!"

"What is it Bolls?" asked Gene, above the din.

"Calm everyone down!"

He saw the worry in her eyes. "_QUIET!!_" he yelled and the noise stopped instantly. "Right Bolly – what?"

She took the marker from Gene's hand and, taking the cloth they used to clean the boards, she removed the word 'solved' from the board, to loud groans from the room.

"I know!" she replied. "Obviously, there is nothing I would like more than for it to be true. But all we have now is _circumstantial evidence_!! We need _proof_!! What Chris did is an amazing bit of detective work. We have to finish it off and be CERTAIN that there is nothing to this threat. Gene's life is at stake here and this case is NOT solved until I get the guarantee I'm looking for. Now, help me get it! How do we tie this case up? How do we link all the pieces of the puzzle together?"

Everyone in the room could see how keenly earnest she was. They realised, that without her dogged determination throughout the case, that they would not have come this far. It was her decisions that sent Chris and Ray to Manchester. That got Special Branch involved. That got Gene to agree to security. All of it. Right from the start.

There was an awkward silence until Ray spoke up.

"As far as I can see it Boss, we can only get that guarantee from O'Brien. If, _if_, he's even close to the IRA, then he won't talk to us. He'll clam up tighter than the Chief Super's arsehole on budget day." There were titters of laughter around the room but Alex shushed them nodding at Ray to continue. "But if he was just pissin' about and thought it'd be funny to threaten a senior police officer, then he'll probably cough up when he's arrested. We need to set some crack interviewer on him. Someone who'll lead him right up the garden path and have him singin' like a flippin' canary before he knows what's what."

"Sounds like a plan, Ray," she smiled at him.

"Got any crack interviewer in mind, Raymondo?" asked Gene, genuinely impressed with his team today.

"I was thinkin' the Boss here, but… well. Too close to the case. No offense Boss. I just reckon it'd be better comin' from someone err… less close."

Alex smiled. She wasn't offended and indeed, had to agree with him. If she saw O'Brien she'd be more likely to throttle him than Gene would. She knew what Ray was trying to say.

"Well, who then?" pondered Gene. "I'd like it to be someone we know. Someone-"

"I know," chimed in Alex. "I know who'd be perfect."

"Who?

"DI Crane."

Amazingly, Gene didn't hate the idea, even though Crane was Special Branch. The young man had been polite (okay, irritatingly polite) and helpful all the way through the investigation and had shown he had an intelligent head on his shoulders.

"Branch?" queried Gene. "Mooreland will probably take credit for solving the case."

"He won't. He can't," she said with certainty. "We have done all the leg work here. We just need someone who's familiar with the case but who isn't either known to O'Brien or too invested."

"Okay then. That's what we'll do," he finished, clapping his hands together. "You heard the lady. Back to work and make sure all the i's are dotted and the t's crossed. Ray, you write up your report and leave _nothing_ out. Everyone you met. Dates, times, venues, the lot. Chris, you do the same. Both of yer use Shaz if you need help. Barlow – forensics and bomb squad. You write that up, to include every damn sweep of me car and me home. Jonesy, you follow up the procedurals with Branch, to include all meetings and strategy talk. All of you, give yer reports to DI Drake here, who'll compile the whole thing and make sure our case is watertight. If anyone fucks this up, I will personally shove your incompetent hide into the very first sewer I come across. I won't even mind if I have to cut you into little pieces to do it."

Everyone sat there, a bit stunned by the list of detailed instructions and the fact that the entire team had a role to play. The Guv normally only trusted the chosen few but this time it was different.

"Well?? What are ye waiting for? Friggin' gold invitations!? CHOP CHOP!!" he shouted and everyone scarpered. Everyone except for Alex, who still sat on Ray's desk and waited. She wasn't quite done yet.

"So… you're too… ehh, what was the word? Oh yeah. You're too _invested_ in me case, hey Bolly?" he asked her, eyes sparkling with pride.

Alex didn't quite know what to make of the look he was giving her. Presuming he was laughing at her, she made a face at him in reply and just managed not to give him the finger at the same time.

"Are you going to ring Special Branch, or will I?" she asked, focusing back on the job.

"It was your idea," he responded, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Be my guest."

She gave him a look and moved over to her own desk, picking up the phone and dialling.

Of all people, it was Ray who felt rather sorry for her at this dismissal. He cast an angry look at the Guv's back. She had worked damn hard on this case. Damn hard. She was in here on the evenings she had off, checking all security reports _and_ all the other reports. She made sure every last one of them acted like the coppers they were and did the business. For _months_ she had held them all together, keeping them focused on this case as well as the all the others that had come their way.

Ray watched as Gene stalked back into his office and banged the door shut. His Guv really was a right bastard when he wanted to be. He couldn't even give Alex a pat on the back and say, "job well done!" like he had with everyone else. Ray had long ago accepted that Alex was his superior officer. They had worked together a number of times and it had been a successful working relationship. He figured that it wasn't him who had to get used to a bird in charge. It was the Guv. Oh, he might fancy her but this was different. This was about Alex being on the team, hell, even _leading_ the team recently. Ray was confused – he thought the Guv and Drake had been getting along nicely recently and even presumed they had taken their relationship beyond the strictly professional. So what the fuck was all this dismissive business about?

"_DS Carling!!_ Are you just going to sit out there and sulk or are you going to have the balls to come in here and have it out?" roared Gene from his office.

Ray started. He had no idea that Gene had been watching him. Alex's eyes were large with uncertainty as he got to his feet and her anxious gaze followed him into the office. She had no idea what brought about the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Shut the door," said Gene in a deep voice, when Ray walked in. "Take a pew."

Ray did as he was told and then dropped into the seat.

"Well?"

"It's… err… I… See, it's like…" Ray trailed off. He was going to fucking die. He knew it. The Guv was going to rip him a new one. Or three.

"Spit it out," came the same low voice.

"It's DI Drake Guv. She's worked damn hard on all of this. I uhh… I respect her fer it. And I think you should too. It wouldn't have hurt to show the lads that you do an' all. That's it."

"You think that I don't respect her?" asked Gene, secretly surprised at Ray's forthrightness.

"All I know is what I see Guv. She deserved more than a dismissal like what you gave her. I… I'm not sayin' you should be flingin' yourself on the floor in gratitude or anythin' like it. I'm just sayin'… she's worked _damn_ hard. I don't mean to sound disrespectful to ye or nothin' Guv. I jus'… she's on the team. She's the Boss now. She set this whole thing up an' she did it by herself. It were a great job and you… Damn…" he trailed off, not able to say the words that he really wanted to say.

The Guv was a lucky, lucky _bastard_. He had a woman – a right looker too - who appeared, for whatever reason, to actually like him! And he treated her like… well, he treated her like he didn't give a toss.

Nothing was said for a few moments until Gene broke the silence.

"Ray, you and I… we go back a long ways, don't we?" he asked, voice still calm.

"Yes Guv. We do."

"Well…" Gene paused. "Well, I reckon you've earned the right to call it like you see it. Now and again. Especially when yer not talking bollocks," he said, standing up and holding out his hand.

Ray scrambled to his feet, almost in shock, and shook the proffered hand.

"Guv," he said, nodding at the other man.

"Thanks Ray," Gene replied and nodded to the door. "Back to work then?"

"Back to work Guv," he answered and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him. He made a beeline for his desk and didn't catch anyone's eye. He opened the files in front of him and started to work on his report.

Alex looked from the office, to Ray's back, to the office again. What the hell had just happened? The door opened and Gene stuck his head out.

"Bolls?"

Alex got up and Ray studiously avoided meeting her eye. He kept his head down and got on with his own work. Gene ushered her into the office and shut the door behind her. He looked at her nervously for a moment and then shuffled into his seat and gestured for her to come around to his side of the desk. She did so, and half sat on it the way she always did.

"What's going on?" she queried. "What was that about with Ray? He did good-"

"'Sokay Bolls," he interrupted. "Everything's fine wi' Ray. Man stuff. We got it sorted."

"Oh I see," she replied, still a bit puzzled. "You sure?"

"Yep. We're good. Ray's a mate. Knows when to speak up. Knows when to keep his mouth shut. As I said… we're good."

"Man stuff?"

"Man stuff," he repeated, nodding his head and not saying anything further.

Alex knew that whatever had happened, Gene wasn't going to elaborate. The problem, if there was one, was now resolved and in a remarkably calm manner too.

"As for you Bolly… well… I don't know where to start," he said, looking up at her with proud eyes.

She laughed at his serious tone, "What's got into you Gene Hunt?"

"Good bloody question," he replied, sighing. "Did you ring Branch?"

"Yes. Crane will be down soon and we can fill him in and what he's to do."

"I want you to go with him," said Gene bluntly. It was time to put a plan of his into action. He was going to do it anyway, despite what Ray had said, but Ray's words spurred him on.

"But didn't we all agree that I'm too _invested_ in-"

"We didn't _all_ agree and bollocks to it anyway," he said, keen to tell her his plan. "Bolls… I'm not trustin' this to anyone but you. You've run this Op from the start to the nearly finish. You should run it to the finish proper. Go to Manchester with Crane. Brief him on everything he needs to know. Stay away from O'Brien, stay out of the interview room, but make sure you can hear every damn word. Make sure Crane doesn't fuck this up and that he knows you're outside the bloody door if he needs a prompt on what to do next. Finish the job and get the certainty that you've been searching for. Because Alex? I won't be certain until you are."

"Wow… Gene… I didn't expect… I just…" she stammered, completely thrown. Where the brash, swaggering Guv that had just been out in the main office ten minutes ago?

"I know ye don't like me asking but do you think we've cracked this case now? Do ye think it's O'Brien?"

She nodded her head slowly, "It looks that way. I think that it is but I-"

"I know. You want to be certain."

She nodded again.

"Okay then. Now… second thing I want to tell you. When this is all over Bolls, I'm takin' a break. I've built up enough holidays to last until me until me pension kicks in. If I don't use 'em now, I'll lose all of me holidays if the Super thing works out. "

"A break!?" she exclaimed. "But why? For how long? Where-"

He gave a small laugh, "Only for two weeks. At home. To sort the house out."

"Oh," she said in a small voice, feeling a bit silly over her outburst.

"All the time spent in the place recently made me think that I could sort it out a bit better. Get me stuff in order like."

"A fortnight without our esteemed leader?" she teased, thinking he'd never be able to stay away.

"They'll have a leader."

"Who?"

"You."

"_Me_?"

"_You_."

"You're not serious!"

"'Course I am. Why not?"

"You'd let me run CID in your place?"

Gene shrugged, "Don't see why you're so shocked. Who else would I leave it too?"

"_Wow_…" she muttered, truly bowled over. "I never imagined…"

"You've more than proved yourself Bolls. I've not got a problem with you holding the reins for a while. The Super is fine with you being acting-DCI and agrees that it's the best way to help you along the career ladder."

"Well Gene, I'd be honoured," she smiled at him but looked at him closely. "Are you sure? I mean, this doesn't sound like something you'd do… you're always here and-"

He interrupted her rambling. "I'm sure. I also think that it's time a few people around stood on their own two feet without me looking over their shoulder. You've helped Ray and Chris enormously Bolly. Don't get me wrong – they're still twats the pair o' them but… there's the emergence of brain. And… and…" He paused and cleared his throat. "And you've helped me."

Alex nudged his arm with her knee. "I think we've helped each other, wouldn't you say?"

"Well… maybe. Yer only a _bit_ mental now," he said gruffly, but his eyes were twinkling with fun.

She laughed and nudged him harder before catching sight of the time. "Oh - Crane will be here soon, so…"

"Go," he said, wishing she would stay.

"See you later?"

"It's Ray's night," he said, looking at the calendar at his desk.

"Aren't you coming to Luigi's?"

"No, not tonight. I want to finish this case write up on that murder down by the Docks that we had last week."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you in the morning then."

"In the morning," he repeated and reached for her hand. "I am proud o' you Bolls. Tomorrow, we'll go through what needs doing when I'm away and we'll break the news to the rabble about you as acting-DCI."

She smiled at him and brushed her thumb over the back of his hand. "Are you going to tell them about the promotion to Super?"

"Not until I get it. Apart from yourself, only Ray knows I've been offered. I'm keepin' it that way until it's confirmed."

"I'm very proud of you too," she said softly. "It wasn't an easy decision to make but it's the right one."

"I hope so Bolly. I hope so. Right… work to do." He got to his feet and marched out to the office, Alex trailing after him. He waited until she reached her desk and then coughed loudly, making everyone look up at him.

"I think we've all done as much as we can today so pack up and get going home. I want everyone in here at eight tomorrow morning and don't show up if you're hung over. If that is the case, don't think you'll be showing up again here, ever. Clear?"

There was a chorus of "Clear Guv!" from the assembled officers.

"Good. One last thing. This case has driven all of us to near distraction. It's been a right pain in the arse since day one and the thankless task of coordinating it fell on DI Drake's shoulders at 3am one dark and miserable morning. Since then, she hasn't put a foot wrong and has kept us all working like the team we can be. So, I would very much appreciate a show of appreciation for her hard work."

Alex jumped as applause crashed out, complete with whoops and whistles that were, for the first time, not directed at her in a derogatory fashion but rather to acknowledge her contribution to the team. She blushed scarlet and buried her face in her hands but found no refuge there as Gene pulled her to her feet and took the pen from her hand.

"Enough work tonight Bolls. Go home and rest," he smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "After all, tomorrow is another day."

"Corny as hell Guv, but thanks," she smiled and patted him on the back. She got more handshakes and friendly winks from the others as they made their way home. Ray shook her hand heartily and his eyes caught Gene's for a moment.

"Thanks mate," said Gene as Ray passed by, Quattro keys in hand.

"Cheers Guv," he replied and headed off to get the car.

Gene and Alex were now alone and he sneaked a quick kiss. "Goodnight Bolly. Thanks for everything."

She kissed him back briefly, "No more shadows Gene. We're going to shine lights into places this guy didn't know he had."

"I'm so proud I could cry," he grinned. "C'mere - did I ever tell you about the shadow puppets I can do? Look, one hand goes here like this and the other-

There was a shriek followed by a laugh and a light slap. "GENE!"

"Nothing like a good grope, 'ey Bolly?"

.oOo.


	10. Chapter 10

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Acting on the advice from one Lucida Bright, you're in for updates from me as you've never seen 'em before. The end is nigh and indeed, is written. Three more chapters after this as opposed to one massively huge one. Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

* * *

It was slow going over the next few days. Every report, detail, file and item was re-examined and re-checked. In addition to Operation Wing, they still had a heavy caseload involving drug crime and one or two murders. Everyone was working flat out and tempers were more than a little frayed.

By Wednesday, Alex rubbed her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Her eyes were dry and felt… cloudy. Her head was splitting and no matter how hard she tried to follow the words on Chris's report, the lines of text kept blending and merging into each other. Over the past few days, she had made it repeatedly clear that she wanted all reports to be double-spaced but Chris had forgotten. Yet again. She screwed her eyes shut and this time, a wave of nausea swept over her.

"Chris!" she barked, annoyed.

"Yes Boss?"

"I can't read this bloody report. Double-spaced Chris!! Double-spaced!! How many times do I have to say it?"

"S-sorry Boss. I jus-"

"Don't make excuses. Just do what I asked," she snapped and tossed the cramped pages into the bin for shredding. "Write it again."

She had just dumped his only copy apart from the carbon. "Boss… could I have it bac-"

"Oh for Christsake! _HERE_!" She grabbed the pages up again and banged them on the desk. A stab of white-hot pain exploded right behind her eyes and this time she knew she was going to be sick.

"You all right Boss?" came Ray's voice from right beside her, making her jump.

"I'm just bit tired," she said, swallowing the nausea back.

Suddenly, Ray was shoved out of the way as Alex bolted for the doors. She pushed him so forcibly that he stumbled against an open filing cabinet, sending the drawer crashing home with a loud bang.

"Ray!" cried Shaz, annoyed. She was certain that he had said something to upset Alex.

"Don't look at me!" he exclaimed, equally annoyed. "I only asked her if she was okay!"

"What the bloody hell is going on out there!?" thundered Gene from his office as he flung his door open. "I'm trying to read this fuckin' rep… Oh great. What's wrong _now_?" He saw Ray giving him a strange look.

"It's the Boss, Guv. I don't think she's well," he replied.

Gene looked around, "Where is she?"

"Dunno. She shot out of here like a bat out o' hell two seconds ago." Ray was now putting all pieces of his puzzle together and had arrived at quite eh conclusion. Drake had been moody and cross for the past three days and now was decidedly green around the gills. At nine in the morning? All this from a woman who barely touched a drop in weeks? Surely, only a certain type of woman would act like that. A pregnant one.

"What are you looking at me for, Carling?" spat Gene. "Shaz – go down to the bogs and see if she's there."

"Yes Guv," she said, getting hurriedly to her feet, anxious to get out of the way of the death glare Gene was sending to Ray.

Gene turned on his heal and marched back into his office, banging the door behind him. Was Alex sick and he hadn't noticed? They'd all been so engrossed in getting the case together that… well, maybe he hadn't paid enough attention. She had been grumbling about a headache for the past few days but she seemed to be managing on Anadin, plus he wouldn't hear of her staying in late. He hunted her out of the office by seven at the latest. He twirled a pen around his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. Maybe she needed a break just as much as he-

Shaz was back, looking grave and he was on his feet and through the door immediately. "What's wrong?"

"She's really not very well at all Guv. She needs to go home." Shaz didn't want to repeat the wretched sight she saw in the toilets. Alex was throwing up and was crouched against the toilet bowl, washed out and too weak to stand. "I've just come back for her things."

He nodded. "Fine. Where is she?"

"In the ladies but I don…" it was pointless continuing. He'd already left the office.

"'Ere… you don't think…?" began Ray, giving Shaz and Chris a knowing look.

Shaz shot him a filthy look. "It's a migraine Ray. You know - a headache that's so bad you think you're about to die? Haven't you even _noticed_ that she's hardly able to read anymore?"

Ray shrugged. "I were only-"

"Well don't!" snapped Shaz and gathering Alex's things, she brushed past him and followed Gene.

"What's going on?" asked Chris, late to the party as always.

"Nothin' mate. Flamin' women. They always stick together, huh? Thick as thieves, them two." Ray knew that was uncharitable but he was annoyed with Shaz. After all, he HAD noticed something was up with Alex and he had been the only one to ask her what was wrong.

Chris, predictably, agreed with Ray and the two of them returned to their desks.

* * *

"Ladies, pull yer knickers up and clear off! I coming in!" shouted Gene from the door.

"There's only me," came Alex's faint voice. She reached up to flush the toilet, as she had been sick again. She heard him walk across the floor and push the cubicle door open.

Oh dear," he said gently, crouching down beside her. "Let's get you home, 'ey?"

She shook her head slightly. If anyone moved her right now they were going to be very sorry. She pressed a hand to her splitting head. "I need a few minutes," she whispered.

Shaz entered the rooms behind them. "I've got your things Boss," she said, her voice gentle too.

"Shaz, nip to the kitchen and get a glass of water for her," instructed Gene, giving the WPC a grim smile. "We'll get her moving then."

She did as instructed and hoped that the Guv could get Alex on her feet. Nobody in their right mind would want to stay on the floor of that manky loo for too long.

Sure enough, by the time she got back, Gene had Alex propped up near the sinks, an arm around her waist.

"Thanks Shaz," he said, taking the water from her and giving it to Alex. "Swish that around yer mouth Bolly and let's get out of here," he instructed.

Too fatigued to argue with him Alex just did as she was told. Shaz helped her into her jacket and followed them as Gene walked her slowly towards the main doors of the station.

"Get Ray or Chris," whispered Alex, just as he moved to open the door.

Gene rolled his eyes but jerked his head towards Shaz who scooted back to CID and reappeared in a few moments with Chris. Together, they got Alex into her flat and Gene left Shaz to get her into bed. He scouted around for some painkillers, water and for a bucket, just in case. Chris waited on the sofa.

"All done Guv," said Shaz, joining Gene in the kitchen and giving Chris a smile.

"Right Granger. One minute and then we'll go," he said, gathering up the various bits and pieces.

Alex was in bed, turned on her side, facing away from the light. Shaz had drawn the blinds and curtains, so the room was bathed in a dark red glow.

"Take these," he said, putting the painkillers into her hand and giving her a glass of water. Sitting up, she swallowed them gratefully. "Here's a bucket in case you need it, more water here," he plonked a jug and a glass onto her bedside table, "And I'll check in on you later. Get some sleep."

"Thanks Gene," she whispered, lowering herself back to the bed gingerly.

He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "You've been working too bloody hard Bolly. Rest now," he said softly and brushed a feather's touch across her aching forehead. "I'm also sending the Doc over to give you a quick look."

She nodded her agreement. "See you later?"

"Yeah. About seven, okay?"

"Sure," came the muted reply. She was going to be sick again and really didn't want him to see that.

"Okay," he repeated and with a last gentle pat on her back, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. "Right you pair. Let's go," he said to Chris and Shaz.

"Shouldn't one of us stay with her Guv?" asked Chris.

"I think she'd prefer it if we left her alone," replied Shaz tactfully. "Nobody wants to have someone around if you're about to throw up."

Gene nodded his head in agreement and ushered them out the door in front of him. Once they were back in the station, he asked Viv to scare up the Doc and asked that he would call in on Alex as soon as he could.

He found it hard to concentrate for the next hour but he did his best. He was wading through Ray's reports and felt like beating the other man around the head with a dictionary. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Doc, hovering around the main doors to CID with Viv and Shaz. He was just about to get to his feet when Shaz brought the Doc through to him.

"Ah, DCI Hunt. For once, it's not you who has been in the wars," said Doctor Harris by way of greeting.

"It's early in the day yet," replied Gene, shaking the proffered hand. "Have you seen Drake?"

"Yes. She has a migraine brought on by hyperopia; that's farsightedness to you and me. She needs glasses."

Gene blinked. "Come again?"

"Glasses, Mr Hunt. Your DI is as blind as the metaphorical bat, particularly when it comes to reading material."

"So this bloody headache she's been moaning about…"

"She's been doing a lot of reading lately. She can't focus on words on the page and constantly forcing herself to do so, resulted in a migraine and nausea. The body can only take so much before it says enough. Reading words that are always blurred can be quite unsettling. DI Drake presumed she was just tired, which is true but not the only factor. I also suspect that the incident with the petrol in her eyes hasn't helped. She should go to an ophthalmologist as soon as she can."

"So… there's nothing else wrong?" asked Gene, not convinced that Alex this sick just because she needed glasses.

"Nothing as far as I can make out. The migraine should pass in the next 24 hours. She won't feel like doing much. I suggested that she take the rest of the week off but she wouldn't agree. You could always order-"

"We're about to wrap a case Doc. I need Drake. She was supposed to go to Manchester on Friday morning."

"For how long?"

"Just the day, hopefully."

"Hummmm. Well… this is Wednesday. See how she's doing tomorrow and then decide. If she doesn't want to end up with another migraine then she needs rest and glasses. Sooner rather than later."

"Right. Okay Doc. We'll get her looked at tomorrow. Thanks."

They said their goodbyes and Gene filled the rest of CID in on Alex. He couldn't help but notice the rather odd glances from Ray. Were he not focused on his work, he would get to the bottom of it, but he decided that now was not the time. Ray needed to step up to the mark and with Alex out of action, Gene wasn't sure his DS was up to the task. Previously, when Alex had been absent, there wasn't a big case to conclude. Now there was and he needed all hands on deck. Plus, Alex would go though him for a shortcut if he, or anyone else, fucked up now.

He spent the day reading and correcting reports, wanting to shove every infuriating poxing one of them into the shredder. He hated doing this shit. Maybe becoming a Superintendent would have some benefits. He would never have to read another one of these again. It also made him have serious doubts about Ray's ability. He had been making DI noises again and rather than pour cold water over him, Gene had just ignored it. But this substandard work couldn't be ignored; it was problematic to say the very least.

Alex had already indicated that Ray was a slacker when it came to the mundane things like paperwork. Gene knew it was a problem but Ray got results. Sometimes. The way the Met was now, Ray would never be a DI. Like himself Ray was old school and was damn lucky to be a DS. To be a DI you had to care about the big picture and frequently, Ray didn't even know there was a picture. He was loyal member of the team but he needed supervision. He was always going to need it. Gene also knew that unlike Chris, Ray didn't want to learn from Sam. Or from Alex. That stood against him now. Especially because he wrote like a 10 year old. Gene was no great shakes at writing reports either but he kept to the point. This? If he had to read _once_ more about how much time Ray spent pretending to do crossword while listening to conversations, he was going to lose it.

"Guv? Cuppa?" asked Shaz, peering around the door. He gave her the thumbs up sign. Sometimes that girl was worth her weight in gold. Refreshed by the tea and biscuits that Shaz kept supplying him with, they all worked solidly until the evening and then retired, en masse, to Luigi's.

* * *

"Ray? Keep an eye out, will yer? Goin' up to see Bolls," he asked, before ordering his first pint.

"Will do Guv," he replied and motioned for Luigi to come over and take his order. Ray was used to Gene calling up to see Alex at that this stage. When she wasn't babysitting him, the Guv would usually find a way to meet her during the rare evenings she had off. He'd never stay for long, five minutes tops, but it didn't fool Ray for a second. He smiled to himself; the Guv had it bad, that was for sure. Chuckling quietly, Ray made himself comfortable on the bottom step, just inside the main door to the flats and waited for the Gene to reappear.

Gene knocked softly on Alex's door. "Bolls?"

There was a shuffling sound and a miserably pale Alex opened the door. "Hi," she smiled wanly. "Come in."

"How are you this evening? Headache gone?" he asked and closed the door behind him.

"Mostly," she yawned and scrubbed at an eye.

He caught her hand in his. "Blind as a bat I hear?"

"Apparently," she replied, giving him a small grin.

"Lemme see," he said and tilted her head up towards him and scanned her tired eyes thoughtfully. "We've been here before, haven't we? I knew these eyes would land us all in trouble one day. One way or another."

Alex slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "Stupid migraine."

He rubbed her back gently as she relaxed against him. He could get used to this. They stood that way for a few minutes until Alex yawned again.

"You should go back to bed," he directed and released her. "Let us know how you feel in the morning."

She started to protest. "I'll be in the office in t-"

"No, you won't. You're going to get those eyes checked out, first thing. Then you're going to decide how you're doing and if you're okay, and depending on my mood, I might let you come in."

"Gene, I have to! There's too-"

He interrupted her again. "Alex please, for once, don't argue with me and get yourself well. You're no good to us if you get sick all over Ray's reports, though, having struggled through them meself today, I can't says I'd blame you."

That got the smile he hoped for. "Okay. Well… I _might_ see you tomorrow then," she relented, knowing that what he wanted was reasonable.

"Good," he whispered and leaning down, he kissed her gently. "Glad yer almost back to normal. Or… back to whatever passes for normal wi' you."

She gave a soft snort of laughter. "Bugger off!"

"Mind your language Drake," he teased and opened the door. "See you tomorrow. If you're not in work, I'll drop in tomorrow evening."

She smiled up at him. "Good." Stifling another yawn behind her hand she said goodnight and kissed his cheek with a murmur of thanks.

He gave her a brief wave before heading down the stairs to join Ray who was still sitting on a lower step; his feet keeping the main door open.

* * *

"How is she, Guv?"

"Doing better Raymondo. Her headache isn't so bad but she still looks as green as that mould we found on that bit o' cheese in the fridge the other day."

"That was mostly grey, Guv. And fuzzy."

"No! That's what covered those old strawberries. I'm talking about the green stuff. On the cheese."

"Guv… I'm thinkin' that we really should clear the fridge out more often."

"Oh shut up, you great girl," he scoffed and sat down beside Ray. "Did you get a pint for me?"

"'Course I did," he replied and handed Gene the pint he knew his Guv would want.

"Cheers Ray," he replied, clinking their glasses. Gene took a swig and then lit a cigarette, blowing smoke out into the cool evening. They sat in silence for a while before Ray spoke again.

"So, how is she really?"

Gene gave him a sharp look. "I told yer. She's doing better."

"Just a headache?"

"A migraine," Gene sighed and then plonked his pint down on the step behind him. "What the fuck is up wi' you?"

"Me? Nothing."

"And the funny looks you've been giving me all day?"

"I haven't! I wer-"

"When did you become Drake's big defender all of a sudden? And why is it that the last time we had a row it was about her too?"

"Honestly! It's nothing," protested Ray, seeing that somehow he had stepped on a landmine.

"Have you got a thing for her?" The stab of jealousy that ripped through Gene at that moment almost caused him to gasp.

It did cause Ray to gasp. Unfortunately, he'd just taken a big gulp of his pint. "ME!? No ruddy _WAY_!!" he spluttered, choking and coughing.

Gene didn't know what to think. He gave Ray a few whacks on the back to help him catch his breath. Ray moved out of his reach, indicating that he was fine and just needed to stand up. A whack from the Guv was enough to dislodge a lung. Once his coughing fit subsided he sat back down.

"No Guv. Seriously, DI Drake and I are colleagues who have, somehow, managed to work together on occasion. We've agreed a mutual truce for now. There's nothing else. I swear it."

Gene said nothing and took another drag of his cigarette. Something didn't sound quite right to him. He'd worked with Ray for long enough to know when his Sergeant had something on his mind. Not one for backing off tactfully, Gene pressed on. "Okay, so you don't fancy her then. Care to explain the funny looks towards me today then?"

"Guv, for the last time, there were no funn-"

"Yes, there fuckin' was. And I suggest you tell me before I kick it out o' you. I will not have a member of my team saying one thing and doing another."

Ray had to think fast and this wasn't something that was his strong suit. He just knew if he told Gene that he suspected Alex was pregnant, Gene really would kick it out of him, just for the hell of it. No. He had to say something else.

"Guv… it's nothing. Drake has been as narky as fuck for the past three days. Today she almost chucks up all over me. I just presumed that you knew what was wrong had decided to say nothing about it, considerin' how we're all working to wrap the case up. If she's sicker than wot you said, I'd like to think you'd tell me about it. That's it." He thought he did well, as that was as close to the truth as he could make it. Hell, it was _all_ true if pregnancy could be classed as "sick".

But he wasn't out of the woods yet. Gene narrowed his eyes. "An' why would I know what's wrong with her?"

"Well… 'cause you two are close, like." Ray wasn't stupid enough to say just how close he thought they were.

Gene took another drink. "She has a migraine. She needs glasses. That's it. If there is anything else then I am not aware of it and the Doctor is not aware of it. Clear?"

"Clear Guv."

There was a loud sigh. "I can't keep havin' this argument wi' you Ray. Contrary to what you seem to think, I do respect her and I know she's worked herself into the friggin' ground for me. You're not the only one who's noticed it."

"I didn't mean to soun-"

"But… when I'm not around," Gene continued as if Ray hadn't spoken, "I'm glad to know that you'll keep an eye on her for me. Mind, if you _ever_ tell her that, I'll fuckin' string you up by your short and curly hair. And I don't mean the hair on your head. Comprende?"

Ray chuckled. "Got it Guv."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, smoking and drinking their pints. After all their adventures together, it wasn't necessary to talk. Sam was gone, Annie had left, Alex had arrived but through all the comings and goings of good friends and colleagues, it was Ray who had stuck around the longest. He and Gene had worked together for over 12 years and they both knew that era was coming to an end. It wasn't necessary to spell it out. Apart from one thing.

"Ray... about the DI promotion..."

Ray looked at his shoes. "It's not happening, is it Guv?"

"No."

"Next year?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"That's up to you. But it won't ever happen if you keep on going the way you are. DIs in the Met these days are a far cry from the DIs you an' I started with."

"Do they all need psychtwattery degrees and whatnot?" Ray was bitterly disappointed.

Gene smiled to himself. "No. But they need to know how to write reports. And they need to know how to run a case. All aspects of it. And they need to help DSs and DCs. Lastly, they need to be the link between the DCI and the team."

The truth of Gene's words hit home. He was gutted.

"Being a DI isn't everything Ray. You remember ol' DS Reed in Manchester. He'd been a sergeant forever and wouldn't even consider moving up. But he was the best DS in the place. Everyone wanted him on a case. Sergeants can do things DIs can't. Plus you get all the investigative work without all the paperwork. You just need to take care of yer own."

"So you're saying you get to be a Super, Drake probably gets DCI and I get fuck all?"

Gene hated this and was getting cross. "Three things. One, I'm not a Super yet. Two, no way is Drake ready for DCI and three, if you bothered your arse to do your job to the best of your ability, then we wouldn't be having this little chat. I'm tryin' to help you."

Ray nodded slowly. "Can't a plonk just do the reports an' stuff. It would be-"

"It's your job to do your own. I know it's hard to adapt to all these new changes but Ray, if you don't, Chris will beat you to it."

"_Fuck off!!_" he cried, incredulous.

"I'm serious. Chris, div an' all that he is, is eager to learn. Eager to improve. His big downfall is that once he learns something, he's more than likely to fuck it up again in a very short space of time. You? Not so. But you won't learn and you won't listen. At least Chris tries."

"I see what yer sayin' Guv. Thanks."

"Beter to say it now, huh?"

"True enough. 'Nother pint, Guv?" asked Ray, seeing Gene drain his glass.

"Nah. Think we should head off. There's a good film on telly tonight. Dirty Harry. One of me favourites."

"We better get a move on then," said Ray enthusiastically. They picked themselves up off the step and returned their glasses to Luigi who made polite enquiries after Alex. Then, managing to escape the Italian's clutches before he started bleating on about Alex, sick and alone in her flat, Gene made his escape with Ray. As they crossed the road, he looked back towards her flat. No lights were on so he presumed she took his advice and returned to bed. He hoped she did; she badly needed the rest.

If he could have seen Alex at that moment he'd have been more than amused. She was fast asleep, on her back, and her snores would give him a run for his money.

* * *

The following morning, Alex felt better. Her headache was mostly gone and the nausea had vanished. She was hungry so after a decent breakfast, she went to the opticians and had her eyes tested. Sure enough, she needed glasses and they would be ready for her next week. As she made her escape, the optician reminded her that she needed to rest her eyes or risk the headache returning. She made the necessary agreeable noises, picked out a pair of frames she liked and then beat a hasty retreat. She stopped off at the first phone box she found and rang Gene, wheedling her way back into work without really that much of an argument.

Once she arrived in the office, she started straight into her files. DI Crane appeared and the two of them worked solidly for the rest of the morning. Gene was with the Super and the office buzzed with an air of nervousness. The doors banged open at lunchtime causing everyone to jump.

"Good to _see_ you, Bollykecks," grinned Gene at her, the emphasis on "see" not lost on her. "Crane."

"Guv… errr… Mr Hunt, Sir," stammered Crane

Gene rolled his eyes and strode into his office.

"God, he must think I'm _such_ an idiot," muttered Crane to Alex.

"David, you should just talk to him! If you want to move from Branch then-"

Crane shook his head. "No. I'd rather have worked this case to completion before I ask. Otherwise, he has nothing to go on and I don't want a recommendation from Mooreland. I'd rather move on my own merits."

"Gene already knows that you're a good copper. He knows more than you think, even if h-"

David smiled at her. "You worked things out with him yet?"

"David!" she hissed, looking around. Nobody was near them. "Shush!"

"Is that a yes then?"

"It's a yes and a sort of no. Early days. Now, we're not talking about this here. If you look at this file, at the bit wh-"

"Don't let it go by Alex," said Crane sincerely. "Very few of us get a chance in life to be really happy. Seize that chance with both hands. In this job anything can happen. Here one minute and… not, the next. So don't have regrets."

"Right now, finishing this case is important to me," she said sincerely. "For more reasons than just the obvious. So, we should get back to work."

He held up his hands. "Okay. Work it is."

Their little tête-à-tête was, of course, noticed by Gene. He pretended to be inputting figures into the computer but all the time he was just pressing random buttons, his eyes fixed on the cosy pair, nattering in the corner. He knew it was irrational, he knew what she had told him previously, but it still bugged. Crane was good copper, of that he was certain, but he was still too close to Alex's… sort. Posh, upper class, well educated, clever, good-looking, young… all the things he wasn't. Gene's big fear, the "what if" scenario of her walking out, always came to the fore when he saw Crane. He knew he was jealous and insecure – two things he never thought he could be – but Alex had turned his worldview upside down. And it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He stared morosely down at a large ledger in front of him. Fuck it. The ledger never threw a hissy fit and made irritating beeps like this useless piece of crap on his desk. Until he was specifically told otherwise, he was going to update his crime classifications in his ledger and they could just fuck right off with this computer bollocks.

"Gene?"

Alex was standing in the doorway.

"Yes Bolly?" he replied, laboriously copying figures from one column to another. Eyes on the job.

"It's lunchtime. You coming?"

"Soon. Go ahead without me. I'll catch up."

"Can I help?"

"No. No, it's fine. Go. See you later."

"I think you're just meant to add the left column up and transf…" she trailed off, catching his look.

"My ledger, Bolls. My rules."

"You also have a rule about lunch and Ray will gnaw the leg of his chair if you don't get a move on. Come on Gene… the ledger can wait."

He sighed theatrically but got to his feet nevertheless and they all meandered across the road to Luigi's for lunch. Not, for once, a liquid lunch but one that contained food. Gene was rather quiet but was pleased that Alex sat beside him and nicked bits of his pizza.

"Need to talk to you when we get back," he murmured in her ear eventually.

"'Bout wot?" she replied round a mouthful of pasta.

"The Super had a few thoughts."

"What's the problem?"

"There isn't a problem. He just wants to help out, is all. Coming in later to listen in. Let's wait until we get back, 'ey?"

"You're being all mysterious again Gene. Tell me- URGH!! What did you do!?"

He had been fiddling with a sachet of mustard and it had enough of his pawing. With a pop, it exploded all over the front of his shirt.

"SHIT!!" he cried, jumping to his feet and grabbing Chris's napkin from him. He scrubbed at the fabric furiously.

"You're only making it worse," she said, reaching for the mustard covered napkin. "Come and get one of those spare shirts upstairs and put that in the sink to soak."

As they got up, Shaz remained them the briefing session was scheduled for 2pm.

"We'll only be a few minutes Shaz," replied Alex, hurrying after a thoroughly pissed off Gene.

* * *

She hoped he wouldn't notice that his spare shirt supply had dwindled somewhat. All that was left was a red one and a light blue one. She had used the others for pyjamas or just for lounging about it. A green cotton shirt with wide 70's lapels was her favourite and current one for sleeping in. Shit… she hoped it was tucked away out of sight. She kept out of his way as he flung the mustard-covered shirt into the sink and turned the water on it. Then she heard him cursing from the bedroom as he looked through her wardrobe for a replacement.

"What is it?" she called from her place of refuge on the sofa.

"How, in the name of ARSE, can a shirt shrink this much when it just hangs in a wardrobe?" he asked appearing at the door in a light blue shirt that was so small, his biceps threatened to burst through the sleeves, the cuffs only reached mid forearm, and the buttons were more than a foot apart.

"That's because you're wearing my blouse Gene."

"What the _fuck_??" he spluttered and he whipped the blouse off him as fast as he could. "Where's mine?"

She rolled her eyes and moved past him into the bedroom. "Here," she said, pulling out his shirt. "I've even had it laundered as it was hanging in there for so long."

"Why, thank you Bolly. That were nice of yer," he grinned as he pulled the shirt on and fixed his tie. Just as he had the knot where he liked it, he froze. His eyes fell on an empty suitcase beside her bed, which he only noticed now. "You going somewhere?"

She saw what he was looking at and smiled at him. "Oh that! No… well… yes, sort of. You wouldn't believe the amount of stuff I've left in your place over the past few months. Have to move it all out soon."

Gene let out the breath he was holding. "I would believe it. Nearly fucking killed meself the other day – stepped on one of them bastard hair rollers o' yours and it almost sent me down the stairs," he grinned back. "You don't half collect tat Bolls. But… but… I know I'll miss it. Miss you."

"I'll miss you too," she whispered, stepping closer to him.

He reached for her and not giving either of them a chance to over think it, he kissed her as hard as he could. _Don't walk out on me Alex. Please don't ever_.

Alex responded eagerly, grabbing at his shirt, shoulders, arms, anything to pull him closer. Gene happily obliged and backing her up against the wardrobe door, he pinned her there with his body, one hand at the back of her neck, keeping her lips pressed against his.

Alex was tingling with excitement and longing. God, how she had wanted him and the feel of him against her. He was firm and solid where she was soft. She loved the contrast, loved the feel of his roughened fingers as they found a patch of silky skin on her side. He traced a lazy circle there making her squirm and arch her back towards him.

He couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything except the woman in his arms. Her reaction to him banished all thoughts from his mind except one. Still keeping her tight against him he began to move in the direction of his bed and Alex willingly moved with him. She had already removed his tie and was busily opening one button at a time, placing kisses down his chest after each one popped free. That looked like an awfully good idea – certainly felt like it, so he did the same to her. Gene was a much faster worker and had her blouse off in a few seconds, preferring to kiss her thoroughly afterwards. His mouth grazed across the swell of her breasts, stubble chaffing lightly as his hands gently slid her bra straps from her shoulders.

"Guv!! Boss!! You ready?! We're gonna be late!" came Ray's voice from the hallway.

Alex froze and Gene blinked. Had he just heard-

"Guv?" This time Ray's voice was much closer; he was at the front door and had opened it.

"He's in the bathroom Ray!" called Alex, making Gene jump at the unexpected volume. "I'm gathering some of my stuff. One sec!!"

"'Kay. We're waiting out the front," replied Ray and they heard the front door shut behind him.

Gene leaned heavily against her; his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

She kissed him softly one last time. "We'll find the time."

"I don't even want to think about what'll happen if we don't," he muttered crossly, picking her blouse up from the floor and helping her into it.

She watched as he tucked his shirt in, almost savagely, and snatched his suit jacket and tie up from the bed.

"Gene…" she said softly. "Come here."

He was like a sulky child who had his favourite toy taken away so she reached for his hand and took the tie from him. Then she draped it around his neck, tied it swiftly and smoothed his jacket over his shoulders, fixing the collar which was all askew.

"I love this suit on you," she smiled, thinking how the dark navy pinstripe and crisp blue shirt brought out his eyes.

He was watching her as she spoke and then he cupped her chin in his hand and ran his thumb across her lips before gruffly saying, "An' I love you."

Her heart leapt and she kissed his thumb which was still resting against her lips. "I love you too, you grumpy ol' lion you. Turn that frown upside down."

"Oh fuck off," he chuckled, almost against his will. He couldn't help it. She knew how to make him smile.

Alex caught the corner of his smile with a quick kiss. "We'll be okay."

"I know."

She held his gaze. "I do love you Gene."

"I know that too."

* * *

They caught up with the rest of the team and went back to the station. Alex had hurriedly shoved some clothes into an overnight bag so as not to cause suspicion. If she told Ray she was "gathering stuff" then it would be noticed if she appeared empty handed. Muttering about going to the dry cleaners, she hoped Ray would leave her alone.

Gene looked just the same, if a bit quiet. She soon found out why.

Knowing that Alex was still not 100 Gene had postponed the journey to Manchester for one day, despite her protests. However, he also had the Super to support him so she was well and truly overruled. They reasoned that one extra day wasn't going to make that much difference at this stage so she relented. The Super, after he heard what the plans were for the next few days also dropped a bit of a bombshell on them.

"I have decided that the protection arrangements you have in place for DCI Hunt will have to come to an end."

Alex looked at Gene who was staring at the ground. Obviously he had already had this conversation and lost. "But Sir-"

"It can't continue DI Drake. Once you interview O'Brien, we'll have shown our hand. It will either work or not. We have no other leads, no other information, no nothing. This case, one way or another, ends on Saturday."

"Can we say it ends when we have concluded our interview with O'Brien?" asked Crane, from the back.

The Super gave him a sharp look. "Very good DI Crane. Fair enough, it ends after you have completed that interview. Agreed?"

There were reluctant nods all round. The Super continued, "Obviously I hope for a positive outcome. The information you have gathered and the work that has been put in is nothing short of phenomenal. We all hope that this ends well."

Then the conversation moved on to drug crime but Alex wasn't really listening. Knowing that the case was going to end, regardless of what happened in Manchester, made her feel… anxious. A lot depended on her ability to get the answers they were looking for and it wasn't going to be easy.

She remembered Crane's words. _In this job, anything can happen…_

.oOo.


	11. Chapter 11

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: It is for real. An update from me in a few days! Many thanks to the lovely Lucida Bright for the beta. Thank you all for your lovely reviews; they are very much appreciated.

* * *

By Friday evening, Alex was a bundle of nerves. With less than day to go, she just wanted it over. Even the polite and placid David Crane had had enough and decided to go home early. Alex was obsessing over the smallest details and it was really beginning to irritate him. Rather than say anything he would regret, he took himself off and agreed to meet her at the station in the morning at six.

"Leaving us already, Crane?" asked Gene when the younger man bumped into him in the corridor.

"Yes, Sir. Nothing more can be achieved tonight and I think I should turn in early."

"Bolly driving you mad too?"

"Yes, Sir."

Gene snorted. "I thought as much. Go. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Sir."

"Jesus Christ, Crane. Would you relax a bit? Guv is fine."

"Thanks… Guv."

"See? The world didn't end, did it?" replied Gene, rather loudly, as he banged his way into Viv's office. "Skip! Where are those notebooks I asked for ten fucking years ago?" And without waiting on a reply, he began to pull boxes down and rifle through drawers. Viv flapped about, trying to restore order.

David smiled and hoped that he could escape the clutches of Branch and become a real copper again. Working with Alex, Hunt and the others – it would never be boring, that was for sure.

Meanwhile, back in CID, Alex saw Chris getting ready to leave with Gene. She made up her mind.

"Chris?" She caught his jacket as he passed her.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I know it's short notice, but have the night off. I'll take over."

"Are you sure, Ma'am? You did last night and –"

"I'm sure. Plus, as it's the last night I need to go over a few things with the Guv and it'll be easier than trying to talk on the phone. Go. Shaz won't have gone very far."

"Will it really be the last night, Boss?"

"I hope so, Chris. Anyway, given what the Super said, we can't keep the babysitting up indefinitely. If things work out tomorrow, then it officially ends. If they don't… well, either way, it won't be necessary for you to miss another date." She smiled to show she wasn't angry with him.

Chris beamed at her and tore off down the corridor, making sure to leave by the side door so as to avoid Gene.

He was waiting impatiently at the custody desk when Alex appeared.

"Where the pox is that useless little toe rag?" growled Gene at her.

"I gave him the night off. Come on," she said, nodding towards the doors.

"Why, _yes_, your Highness…" stormed Gene, banging through the doors before Alex and letting them swing back at her. He hated being left waiting, and the last to know things.

"_Such_ a gentleman," she said over her shoulder towards Viv. He laughed as they said their goodnights and went out to the car.

Gene longed for the day when he could leave it at the front entrance all day and nobody would even think about touching it. Alex took the keys from him and drove in the most roundabout way she could think of to his house. He didn't say much on the journey and turned the radio on to listen to the sports results.

* * *

Finally they arrived, and once the hall door closed behind them, Gene heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank Christ this fucking case is nearly over," he whispered, leaning against the door and closing his eyes.

Alex stood to one side seeing, and knowing, that the whole thing had genuinely worn him out. He looked like a man who desperately needed a break. So it was just as well that he had realised it himself before it was forced on him.

Gene opened his eyes and caught her looking at him. He knew immediately by the look on her face that he must look dreadful. "I know," he said in a gruff voice.

"I'm glad it's nearly over too." She reached for his hand.

Rather than just taking her hand, he pulled her to him and hugged her. God, how he wanted her. Why did they both have to be so fucking _stupid_ and insist on keeping each other at arms length? He dropped his head to her shoulder almost as if he was looking to her to protect him and not the other way around.

"I wish tomorrow was over," he whispered as she stroked the back of his head soothingly.

"Why don't you go to bed for an hour or so? I'll get dinner."

Gene gave a soft laugh. "You're a rotten cook Bolls, what with all your fancy herbs and stuff. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Oh Gene! You refuse even to give new food a try. It was only a bit of basil and garlic," she smiled, remembering his reaction to some homemade pesto. She released him and brushed his hair back from his face. "Okay. I can phone Ray to get us something from Luigi's. Go on. I'll call you around eight."

"Be careful not to overtax your eyes. Will you be okay to work on those files on your own if –"

"Of course I will. But you, however, look like death. Go and have a rest. I'll see you later."

"Okay… but we have work to do, so don't let me sleep –"

"Good _God_, man. Go!" she repeated and steering him towards the stairs and giving him a gentle push.

Once Gene was safely upstairs, she rang Ray and told him to pick out something from Luigi's.

"I thought it were Chris's night, Boss?" he asked, somewhat puzzled.

"It is. We switched," she explained. "Makes things easier as this is the last night."

"Oh." Ray didn't quite know what to make of that.

"Is everything all right, Ray?" she asked.

Oh… er… yes, Boss. I'll get yer something nice from Luigi's. Final night, and all that."

"Thanks, Ray. See you around eight. Beep the horn as usual and I'll come out."

"Well… that's what we do _usually_. This isn't over yet right? I'll get a different car and come in with the food."

"Good to see you're still thinking, Sergeant."

"Always am. Just doesn't look like it."

Alex smiled but kept the laughter out of her voice, "Good to know, Ray."

They said their goodbyes and Alex pottered around, cleaning the kitchen up a bit and then watched the telly. She had to admit, she was going to miss this. The initial forced intimacy wasn't so forced anymore. They enjoyed each other's company and it wasn't necessary for them even to talk. Just knowing that the other person was in the same vicinity was enough.

All things considered, she knew she had a done a good job of making his life unpredictable. Anyone who might be watching him would have a very hard time of it. The downside of all this moving about was that the unpredictability of it also took its toll on Gene. Every little thing he did was governed by a plan and accompanied by someone. Alex knew it was irritating for him and she tried, where feasible, to make things a bit easier. He appreciated her efforts, and those of Ray and Chris, and he tried not to take his annoyance out on them. Sometimes he succeeded.

The irritations and annoyances weren't solely reserved for Gene. Chris had begun to resent having to spend so much time away from Shaz. He would do anything for Gene, but months of an unpredictable lifestyle were taking their toll on his relationship with Shaz. If one good thing had happened, he was learning not to take things so personally and to stand up for himself a bit. Ray didn't like being around when Gene was morose or silent. He found that those black moods were hardest thing of all to cope with and would not accept that the lighter side of Gene's character was gone for good.

Alex thought about the hours she and Gene had spent in this kitchen, talking about everything and nothing. Teasing, flirting, joking, debating, arguing. Sometimes she couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. Then there were times when he was someone who could put his arms around her and she didn't want to be anywhere else. He drove her absolutely _crazy_ one minute and the very next, he would look at her, or touch her hand, or just do something entirely unexpected, and her insides did somersaults. They had furious arguments but they also had hours of contented silence, feet up on the coffee table, watching stupid TV game shows like _Play your Cards Right_, _Bullseye _or the _Paul Daniels Magic Show_. Gene loathed Paul Daniels and Bruce Forsyth but Alex loved watching these programmes again and wouldn't let him change the station. She particularly enjoyed it when he would argue with Forsyth. "It's nice to see you, to see you…" chirped Brucie's voice from the TV answered with a vehement, "Fuck off!" from Gene.

So he would mutter, grumble and complain but he still stayed where he was and threaten that he would make her go on _Bullseye_ with him. She figured that he wasn't kidding either; Gene did not joke when it came to darts. Plus, he really wanted the speedboat star prize.

A car pulled up outside and a door slammed, interrupting her reverie. Alex knew it was Ray as he was incapable of closing a car door quietly. He was just about to ring the bell when Alex opened the door.

"Evenin', Boss!" said Ray, handing her a cardboard box with delicious smells emanating from it. "Luigi's finest for yer!"

"Thank you, Ray. Will you come in?"

"Oh… er… no thanks. I've got a bird waitin' on me and I want to be off, like."

"Say no more then!" she grinned. "I'll see you at Euston tomorrow morning."

"Yeah. Er… I hope you finish this thing, Boss. Finish it and bury that prick O'Brien."

"That's the plan."

"Good. It'll work too. I know it will," he replied, nodding in approval. "And don't you worry. We'll look after him till you get back."

She didn't need to ask him whom he was talking about. "I know you will."

"Right. I'll be off," he said and with a wave he got back into the car and slammed his door.

Closing the door, Alex went to the kitchen where she opened the box and popped the food into the warmed oven. She finished setting the table and then ran upstairs to wake Gene.

Gene was fast asleep and, even though she had woken him on a good few occasions at this stage, there was something about this evening. She just didn't want to disturb him. In sleep, he was untroubled by the minutiae of the day that infuriated and fascinated him by equal degrees. Although sometimes the infuriation won out. Alex smiled to herself.

However, he'd wanted to be woken up; to wake him gently she crept in, letting the light from the landing spill into the dark bedroom.

"Gene?" she called softly, kneeling beside the bed.

By now, she was used to him not replying at first. She usually had to give him a shove and then he'd wake up. But not tonight. Holding her breath, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"Gene?"

His eyelids fluttered and she gently kissed him again, on the lips this time.

"What's time?" he mumbled, rolling over to face her.

"Just gone eight," she replied, brushing at the hair on his temple. It was noticeably grey now and she knew that most of it had appeared over the past few months. The poor man had battled, fought and tried to carry on as he always did but the strain was now beginning to show. She was worried about him.

"Mmm… 's nice," he sighed in response to her ministrations. Then he slowly opened his eyes and reached out to caress her cheek in return. "Nice view to wake up to."

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied, letting her fingers trail down his face and back up to his hair again.

Gene gave a sarcastic laugh, "Right. A regular male model, me."

"Don't be daft. You're gorgeous," she purred.

"Give over," he said, squinting at her in the half-light of the room. "Me? A right hard-clock, scarred old copper? You pissed or something?"

"Haven't had a drop," she whispered, twirling a bit of his hair around her finger.

"Bolls… come on," he sighed, catching her hand. "You're off your rocker. More so than usual."

She smiled at him and he thought her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A slow smile spread across his face. She could ask anything of him and he would do it. Amazingly, he suspected that his wish was her command too.

She kissed him gently and just as he began to enjoy it, he froze. He'd been afraid of this; afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop, that his willpower would vanish… and then he stopped caring. He kissed her back, deepening the kiss and pulling her into his embrace.

She pulled back a fraction and repeated softly against his lips, "You are a handsome man, Gene Hunt. Remember that." She kissed him lightly once more and then, reminding him that dinner was ready, she left him alone.

* * *

He joined her in the kitchen, and they tucked into their dinner, files and notes spread out on the table between them. Gene told her again everything he knew about O'Brien. Every incident, every arrest, every kicking. He spared none of the details and it made him wince on more than one occasion. He wasn't that man any more, and he hoped she knew that.

Despite the case work, they enjoyed their meal and the conversation afterwards which ranged from the plan for Manchester, back to them, to how work would handle a 'them', to laughing at the whole thing and finally, to curling up together on the couch in silence.

He found it hard to reconcile his life now with the life he thought he was going to have. How had all this come about? After everything that had happened? He had been married for almost twenty years, a lot of it filled with a simmering, silent anger that ripped into his very soul. Those horrible, sour years. They had drained him, turned him into a shell of a copper and worse, a shell of a man. Hard to believe that a marriage that had started so well, so happy, could go downhill that fast. But it had, aided and abetted by his actions. He thought of the first time he had an affair. The thrill of sneaking around, great sex, laughter, fun… followed rapidly by crushing guilt and avowals never to do it again. It was enough to see the look in Teresa's eyes even though she said nothing. So he was good for a while. Until the second time and the third, fourth, fifth… he stopped. It would be pointless to go on because he knew he couldn't remember the exact number.

He looked down at Alex, who was tucked up against him, a file in her hand and a small frown on her features as she read. What the hell was a woman like her doing with a right selfish bastard like him? She wasn't like any woman he'd ever met before. Wasn't like anyone, for that matter. Not even Sam.

He didn't know what his life would be like with her and that scared him. Would it be like his marriage? Happy at first, but rapidly coming apart at the seams? Would she stay? Would they get wed? Have a kid?

He pondered those questions for some time, thinking what it would be like if Alex stayed with him and they managed to have a life together. He also reckoned he'd be okay with a kid around. Maybe more than one.

He coughed, but Alex didn't say anything, much to his relief. Marriage? A kid? _Kids_? What the Jesus was wrong with him? All it took was a snog or two and here he was, planning their entire lives already. Oh Genie boy, you were right about one thing when all of this bollocks started months ago. You really are up shit creek without a paddle. But you never checked what creek you were in, did you? You great soft pillock.

He berated himself and tried to talk some sense into himself. But it was no use. A little smile crept onto his lips. Maybe they'd be okay.

Eventually, Gene shifted, thinking that while the couch was okay for one person to have a bit of a kip, it wasn't all that comfortable for two who were about to fall asleep. He could feel one of the springs digging into his back. Fucking thing.

"Here, Bolls," he said, giving her a nudge with his hip. "Time for bed."

She groaned from his shoulder and removed her hand from where she had it resting over his heart. He instantly missed the warmth.

She sat up, stretched and gently swatted at him with the file in her hand. "Goodness! Two o'clock! Where did the night go?"

"Time flies when you're having fun," he quipped, getting to his feet and yawning. He held his hand out to her and she took it, quite content for him to lead her up the stairs.

He stopped on the landing, outside her room. "Stay with me tonight, Bolls," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Gene, we –"

"Just to sleep. But if you'd rather try and get a few hours on your own then that's okay wi-"

She yawned and slipped her arms around him. "You know I'd rather stay with you."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a yes, silly," she replied, giving him a quick kiss.

He squeezed her gently and then let her go to the bathroom first. Within ten minutes they were both ready for bed and he slipped under the duvet beside her. She had already set the alarm for five a.m. and was just having one last scan through her notes when he reached over and took them from her.

"Enough, Bolly. You need to rest now."

"I need to check –"

But he wasn't having it and switched off the light, dropping the notes to the floor. He tugged her down into his arms and kissed her goodnight.

"You've a long and difficult day ahead, Bolls. Give your eyes some rest for a few hours."

There was a soft sigh and she snuggled next to him. "Rest it is," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. He smelled wonderful and she breathed it in deeply.

"Sleep well, Bolls."

"Night, Gene," she replied.

He thought she was drifting off to sleep when she broke the silence about five minutes later.

"I love you," came her muffled voice and he could feel that she was tense, waiting for his reply. She had nothing to worry about.

"I love you too, Alex," he said, his voice hoarse.

She hugged him closer and they gradually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gene could have smashed the alarm clock into a million pieces when it dutifully bleeped at five. Alex was curled against him, fast asleep, he had been having the most wonderful dream, and now that POXY LITTLE BASTARDING THING ruined it.

"It's only a clock, Gene. Not its fault," she mumbled as she heard him furiously thump it off, cursing.

He huffed in annoyance. When would they _ever_ get some peace?

"Good morning," she smiled up at him, moving to link her arms around his neck.

He rolled on to his back; pulling her on top of him, he kissed her lightly and then sighed in contentment. "If alarm clocks were like you, I'd never get out of bed. Morning, Bolls." He kissed her again and then both of them got up. They hurried about getting showered and dressed and Alex tried to think of everything she'd need for the day.

She was quiet and pale over breakfast as she studied the notes that they had worked out together the previous evening.

"You'll be fine, Bolls. Just do what you normally do."

"Gene, you know that I get inside people's heads but I can only do that if I've had enough time to build a profile. With O'Brien I –"

He put his hand on hers. "You _will_ be fine. Crane isn't exactly a dummy. He's interviewed lots of hard nuts during his time with Branch. I've given you everything I know on O'Brien. We've got back up from Manchester who are probably pulling him in as we speak. Do your psychtwattery thing and bury the bastard. Between Crane and yourself, he's fucked. I _know_ it."

Alex rubbed her forehead anxiously. "I hope I don't let you down."

Gene couldn't believe his ears. "Bolly – now is not the pissing time to have a crisis of confidence. Where's my ballsy, mouthy DI gone? Oh, don't _tell_ me that it's because of last night that you're gone all mushy –"

"Excuse me? A _platonic_ night with the Gene Genie and my head's turned to wool?" Alex looked at him with shocked eyes. He couldn't be serious.

He shrugged. "What can I say? I have that effect on women. They love me – more of them than you know."

That stung her and her voice rose higher and higher as she spoke. "I don't _want_ to know. This is completely different. I'm trying to get someone to admit to a serious crime. It's bloody difficult, Gene. If we don't get him to confess then EVERYTHING we've worked for on this case is for SHIT."

"Jesus _Christ,_ woman – you're as shrill as a fishwife," he stormed, shoving his chair back. "We're going to be late. Get yourself ready and let's go." He kept his back towards her and roughly piled their breakfast crockery into the sink.

Alex glared at him and flounced out of the kitchen, snatching up her bag, files and coat. He heard her grab the car keys from the hall table and then the front door banged… and he smiled.

She wasn't the only one good at the head-shrinky thing. At least she was mad at him and not second guessing herself anymore. He was more than satisfied that she knew exactly what she had to do. After all, she had just roared it at him. He'd noticed that she was looking a bit pale and he hoped that her anger would snap her out of the nerves she was undoubtedly experiencing. He also hoped that her head wasn't bothering her.

He dried off his hands and retrieved his coat from the hall. Shrugging into it, he closed up the house and followed her out to the car. It was a typical April morning in London and he breathed the fresh air deeply. She had already checked out and started the car and was waiting impatiently for him to join her.

He got into the passenger seat, closed the door and they were off. They were stopped at red lights a few roads from the house when Alex finally spoke.

"It's called reverse psychology," she said, having realised what he had done almost as soon as she left the kitchen earlier. It was something she wasn't all that thrilled about it either; how had he learnt to push her buttons so easily?

"_Reverse_ psychology? Christ, it's bad enough that we have to listen to the normal kind; now it's got to be backwards too? Bollocks to _that_."

She shot him a filthy look, as he still seemed intent on playing this ridiculous game. "Oh, what_ever._"

He stared out of the passenger window, keeping his face hidden in case she'd see his amusement. He knew he was needling her and he also knew perfectly well what she was referring to. You didn't work with one DC Annie Cartwright and her degree in psychology for years without picking up a thing or two. He smiled wistfully again. He missed Annie. And the kid. Sam's death had been hard on her especially with the little nipper left on her hands. He hadn't seen them for so long – he should go and visit them when this was over. Maybe Alex would come with him? She'd know how to handle the kid; make him look like less of a fool if she told him what to do. Jesus, there he was again. Thinking about Alex and children at the same time. He'd have to stop that before he said something he shouldn't. She was a DI and she was happy tracking terrorists, busting drug dealers and sorting out nutters. She wouldn't want another kid. No way.

They came to red lights again and she stomped on the brake, propelling him towards the dashboard. Startled out of his musings, he braced himself with his hands against the dash and shot her a dangerous look.

"You deserved that," she said in response. "For winding me up _and_ for pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about."

He shrugged. "I do what I have to. You needed to get your head back in the game. Focus."

She smiled at his insufferably arrogant look. Gene sniffed nonchalantly and settled himself back into his seat.

"Speaking of focusing – green light," he barked at her, nodding towards the traffic lights. "Shift!"

They drove on towards Euston but this time in companionable silence. As they pulled up at the station they could see Ray's car there. She moved to open her door but Gene reached for her arm.

"Alex," he said gruffly, turning to face her properly. "Don't go away angry with me. I'm sorry for the wind up. I was only teasing. You know that, don't you?"

"Reverse psychology?" she asked again, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't want you thinking you couldn't do it. You can't second-guess yourself now. I wanted you to stop obsessing about it and thought maybe getting angry at me would help."

She reached for his hand. "Oh, Gene, I don't _want_ to fight with you all day, every day. You could've just talked to me. There are other ways to get me to stop thinking about things."

He bit back a chuckle. "I just bet there are. Tell you what, Bolls; when you get back this evening, I'll make sure you won't be thinking straight for a week."

"You really are very sure of yourself, aren't you?" she said, playfully tickling his palm with her fingers.

"Heh! Just so you know, the last time I wasn't sure of myself was me first day at school," he lied, straightening his shoulders, but knowing he didn't fool her one bit. She had seen him sinking into a quagmire when he thought she couldn't possibly want him. "One more thing. Is everything okay? You've been looking peaky all morning."

"I'm just nervous about the day. That's all."

"You sure? Eyes and head okay?"

She nodded.

"Okay then. Let's get this show on the tracks. Bye, love. See you later," he said huskily as they kissed each other goodbye.

"You'll be here this evening?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Try and keep me away," he replied, tilting her chin up.

Alex's eyes filled with tears. "I want it to be over, Gene. _We_ need this to be over."

"It will be." He sounded absolutely certain, and kissed her again.

"But –"

He placed a finger on her lips. "No buts. This IRA bullshit ends today, Alex. Make it happen."

She closed her eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath. "See you later," she whispered and kissed him one last time.

He saw Ray leaving the station and hurrying towards them so he let her go and they got out of the car.

"Manchester phoned us fifteen minutes ago, Guv," he said. "They've pulled O'Brien in. The operation's a go."

"Excellent, Raymondo," he replied. "Now then, is Crane here?"

"He's gone wi' Chris to buy tickets," explained Ray. "Here they are now."

Sure enough, Crane and Chris were walking towards them. Everyone said their good mornings and ran through the sequence of events for the day one last time.

The tannoy announced the Manchester train would be departing from Platform One in five minutes so they made their way to the carriage. Alex felt so nervous that she thought she might be sick. All morning one terrible thought had plagued her. What would happen once she was away from her normal environment? From the people that she knew? From Gene? Her heart was pounding as she got close to the train. It was going to take her away from everything and everyone she knew. A shiver of fear ran through her.

Crane boarded ahead of her, taking all the bags and files.

Gene and Alex looked at each other and he could see she was still pale, even more than before. "See you later, Bolls. For the best damn lunch in Luigi's ever," he smiled at her.

"Good luck, Boss," added Chris, shaking her hand.

"Get the bastard," said Ray, giving her arm a friendly nudge.

The conductor blew his whistle and started walking down the platform slamming doors.

Feeling almost faint with fear, Alex stepped onto the train. Gene closed the door behind her and she shoved the window down, needing air.

"You'll be okay, Bolls." He reached in through the window, chaffing her hand gently. "Call me. Whenever you can."

She nodded, now too afraid to even speak. The train shuddered to life and Gene let his hand fall away. She caught his fingers and gave them a quick squeeze before they were separated.

She leaned out the window and kept her eyes fixed on his as the train moved away from the platform. He gave her a small wave as she passed the signal near the end of the platform and she returned it. They lost sight of each other as the train curved around to the left. The loss of contact with him caused Alex to stagger back inside the carriage, feeling as though her world was about to implode. She held her breath and shut her eyes tightly.

Nothing happened.

After a few minutes, she saw Crane looking at her a bit strangely and he pointed to the seat opposite him and at the stack of folders.

She smiled. Back to work then.

* * *

Meanwhile, Chris and Ray were exchanging a look back on the platform. The Guv was awfully still as he stared after the train. He then turned around, looking sad, and traipsed back to where they were standing.

"Chris is going to take you back, Guv," explained Ray. "He'll drive the long way round, and I'll meet you there."

Gene nodded and didn't even moan about Chris driving the Quattro as he normally would. The two other men shot each other another look.

"She'll be back in few hours, Guv," said Ray, hoping he was using his most reassuring voice.

"I know that, you gobshite," spat Gene. "I just hope I haven't put too much pressure on her, that's all."

"It's her operation, Guv," added Chris. "The Boss knows what she's doing. Crane and her will come back here this evening and this case will be closed. I know it."

Gene looked at him and was about to say something withering. But there was something about the open honesty in Chris's face, plus his complete belief in Alex's ability, which made him change his mind.

"You okay, Guv?" asked Ray, seeing Gene bite his lip.

"I hope so, Raymondo. I hope so." Gene moved away, heading for the car. It was ridiculous and he knew he was behaving like a lovesick teenager but… the look on Alex's face as she left… It was all he could do not to jump on the train with her. She looked so scared and so lost. And Alex _never_ looked that way.

Chris and Ray looked at each other again and watched Gene trudge towards the car. "Does he not think the Boss can close this one down?" asked Chris.

"I dunno," replied Ray, sucking on his cigarette. "But look at him. Something's not right."

.oOo.


	12. Chapter 12

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Here's the penultimate chapter folks. Grateful thanks to Lucida Bright for the super and fast beta and for general advice. As always, you're all too nice with your lovely reviews.

* * *

Once they arrived in Manchester, Alex was eager to get the interview underway. As planned, a DI Paul Longley met them from the train and drove them to the GMP headquarters.

Their arrival attracted interest from A Division's CID, most of whom had worked with Gene, Ray and Chris. There were introductions and a tour of CID but Alex couldn't really take it all in. She just wanted to get started.

"In here, Ma'am. It used to be Lost Property but now it's three interview rooms. We've put O'Brien into the last one and you're right beside it. Tell you what Ma'am… the Guv? He were a right legend in this room. Weren't he lads?" said Longley and the few CID people around agreed wholeheartedly.

Alex smiled but again, had a curious feeling of detachment. She just wanted this case to be over. And to go home. To Gene.

"This room here, Ma'am," said a PC, showing her into a small interview room. "You can hear everything that's going on next door."

"All okay, Alex?" asked Crane, gathering up his files.

"Yes. You know what to do, David. I'll send PC… " she looked at the young officer in the room.

"Jennings, Ma'am."

"I'll sent PC Jennings into you should anything crop up. You send out for some pink wafers if you get into trouble. Just stick to the script and this should be fine."

Crane nodded at her, gave her a small thumbs-up sign and went into the interview room. There sat one thin and miserable looking Patrick O'Brien.

Alex moved closer to the intercom; the interview was beginning.

* * *

"Good morning, Mr O'Brien. My name is DI David Crane and I'm from Special Branch. Do you know what that means?"

"Aye."

"Jolly good. Mr O'Brien, before we commence, I must ask that you are aware that you have been arrested under the Prevention of Terrorism Act for membership of an illegal organisation. Is that the case?"

O'Brien shrugged. "Is what the case?"

"That you are aware you have been arrested."

"Of course I'm fuckin' aware of it. I'm sittin' here, amn't I?"

"Excellent." Crane ignored the hostile response and took out his notepad. "Now. Let's not beat about the bush. How long have you been a member of the Irish Republican Army?"

"I'm not sayin' nothin'. You bastards aren't sendin' me to no Diplock court. I've a right to a trial by jury."

"Mr O'Brien, Diplock courts are only used in Northern Irel-"

"My arse they are! You lot would sooner see the likes of me in front of a court with no jury and you don't give shit what part of this Glorious United Kingdom does it. I'm not sayin' _nothin'_. So, fuck you!"

"You're not helping your case Mr O'Brien. I simply want to establish a few facts here and then we'll see what we can do."

"Fuck off. Anyways, I can't understand a word you're sayin' with your plummy Brit accent there, pal."

"You can understand me well enough Mr O'Brien."

"Says you." O'Brien took a long, insolent, drag of his cigarette.

"What division of the IRA do you operate in?"

"The long division," he replied, blowing smoke at Crane. "We multiply too."

"Oh that's very amusing. Yes, very witty indeed. Long division. Ho ho."

"You're not right in the head."

"You don't need to worry about my head. Start thinking about your neck. Now, I'll ask you again, what division do you operate in?"

"And I told you. You can shove the answer up your arse for all I care."

"Mr O'Brien, let me remind you once again. I'm from Special Bran-"

"If you keep on havin' to tell me where you're from, I'm going to think you're from Special Needs. I could give a flying fuck where you're from."

In the next room, Alex rolled her eyes. She could already tell that this was going to be one long day as O'Brien had a smart answer for every question. Crane was going to have to be patient and wear the man down. From what she could deduce, that was going to be harder than they first thought.

Two hours went by and Crane was still no closer to breaking O'Brien's cocky defence. He took a break from the interview and came into see Alex.

"How do you think it's going?" he asked, wearily sipping at a cup of tea.

"Not as quickly as we hoped but otherwise, it's going well. He's still talking and the longer he does that, the more convinced I am he's nothing but an IRA wannabe. You did the right thing; you stuck to the script and repeated the same questions. It was getting to him. He had run out of original things to say about half an hour ago."

Crane nodded and tried to work the kinks out of his neck. "I need a break for a few minutes."

"No problem. In fact, it's a good idea; let him stew in there," she replied and decided she could use the time to ring Gene. "Is there a phone around here that I could use, please?" she asked PC Jennings. "I'd like to report back to my DCI."

"Certainly Ma'am. You can use his old office. DCI Martin isn't in today."

* * *

Alex went to the office and dialled Gene's number. It was strange, sitting in his old kingdom which did, and didn't, look like the place Tyler had described. It was all rather sterile now, like Fenchurch really.

"Hunt. _What_?"

"You really should try a 'hello' now and then," she replied, smiling at his aggravated tone.

"Are you kidding me? I've got keep up the illusion that I'm rushed off my feet with busy police work. How are you?" She could hear the warmth in his voice.

"Tired already," she sighed, "But I think we're making progress. He's done nothing but mouth off for two hours."

"Prat. Some things never change. I'd have sorted him ou-"

"Yeah, well, we won't go there, will we?" she interrupted.

"Yeah… maybe not," he replied, sounding glum. "What do you think of the old place?"

"It's not like I thought it would be. It's bright and clea-"

"Don't. Don't say it. I'd rather remember it the way it was. They must've really done a number on it after the facelift."

"Apparently," she smiled, knowing he was almost too afraid to ask her what he really wanted to. "It's going well Gene. As I said, he's still talking. We're going to press him after this break. Are you okay?"

"Yeah…" he sighed. "Just feel at a bit of a loose end here. Are you feeling better?"

"Much, thanks. It was only nerves."

"Good. Do you think you'll make the three o'clock train back?"

"I hope so but… it's slow going so far. If we aren't going to make it I'll let you know."

"I want you back this evening, Bolls. I'll miss you if you're not here."

"I know. I'll miss you too," she said softly and then she was interrupted by a tap on the door. "One sec, Gene. Yes?"

"Ma'am, DI Crane is ready to go back in," said PC Jennings, poking his head around the door.

"Thank you. I'll be there in a moment," she smiled at the young constable and he left her alone.

"Gene? I have to go," she said into the receiver.

"Okay. I'll be here – won't set foot outside of my office."

"I hope it'll be soon but just… be prepared for a bit of a wait."

"Don't worry about me. I can wait. You just do what you have to do. And Alex?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful. If he is, you know, with _them_," he said, his voice low, too worried to say IRA.

"We will Gene. Don't worry. I promise we'll do this right."

"Okay, love. Bye."

"Bye," she said softly and hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She looked around the rather austere office and smiled. She could just bet that these four partition walls never thought they'd hear the time where Gene Hunt would call someone 'love' and mean it.

She went back to her interview room where Crane was waiting.

* * *

"What's the plan now?" he asked when she arrived.

"Now we put the screws on him. Time to stop playing his game. Let him see that you don't give a shit. See if you can get him to mention Gene's name at all. Mention previous beatings or threaten him with one. But David… if you don't think you can get him then don't push it. It's not worth losing him altogether. We can hold him for five days without charge if we have to. Remember, play it tough and don't give an inch."

"Okay. Here goes," he said taking a deep breath and heading back into the room to O'Brien. Time to play hardball. He tossed his files down on the desk and leaned heavily on it, trying to do his best DCI Hunt impression.

"Can I have a fag?" asked O'Brien, having smoked all of his.

"No."

"Am I even going to see a brief?"

"In your fucking dreams, sunshine."

"Now, wait a minute! What's going on?" cried O'Brien, getting to his feet. "I've got a right to see a solicitor to de-"

"SIT DOWN!" roared Crane, making everyone jump, including Alex. "You have a right to fuck all, dickhead. Everything you get, or don't get, is on my say so. In fact, you don't even get to piss without my say so."

O'Brien said nothing and slumped into his seat.

Crane continued in a menacing voice, "Now, isn't this cosy? Just you. And me. In a room I know you're well acquainted with."

"You don't scare me, you prick."

"No? You should be scared."

"Worse has happened to me at the hands of the police in this city," spat O'Brien. "I'm not afraid of some fucker in a posh suit with a posh accent who's trying to talk tough. I know my rights."

"You know shit," said Crane, his voice deadly serious. "You thought you had a right to a solicitor. Also, when IRA suspects are brought in for questioning, they usually follow a code of silence. They don't say a word. Not to me, not to a brief if they get one, not even to the arresting officers. Yet here you are, yacking away to the arresting officers about an illegal arrest. You've spent all morning ranting to me about Diplock courts, a right to trial by jury and the fact that you're not going to say anything. Quite the chatty little terrorist, aren't we?"

"Fuck off."

"That's not happening. You better start answering my questions or I'll get someone in here who can make you."

"Oh aye. I know the drill. I know it well. Let me tell you something, pal. It didn't work with Hunt the Cunt and it's not going to work now."

Alex froze. Crane had done it. The first crack in the armour. But Crane was pro at this sort of thing. He wouldn't force that crack wide open yet.

"Then if you know the drill, why not just talk to me? Save yourself the trouble. And the pain," he said in a reasonable tone of voice. "All I want to know is the following; are you a member of the Provisional IRA?"

O'Brien seemed to be searching for a smart answer. Eventually he replied with, "As if I'd tell you that."

Crane leaned back in his chair and stared at O'Brien for five whole minutes.

"I don't think you are in the IRA," he said eventually, when he sensed that O'Brien was nervous enough with the silence. "I think you wish you were but they wouldn't touch you. I think you tried to join up but they didn't want a stupid, ignorant labourer, did they?"

"That's not true."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it is. You've got form. You're a petty thief, a gambler and a drinker. You're unreliable and not all that bright."

"FUCK OFF!"

"Oh, come on now, Patrick. Don't be offended. After all, there isn't one burglary you've ever managed to get away with. You're not even a successful thief. No… they didn't want you. You're a marked man. Marked by the police. To the IRA, you're a liability."

"You fucking pigs! _You ruined my fucking life_!" screamed O'Brien suddenly.

"I highly doubt that O'Brien. You ruined your own life."

"I did like fuck. I was doing fine until that _FUCKER_ Hunt worked me over. I couldn't take a shite without that smug prick sending someone to hassle me."

"Who is Hunt?"

"Don't you act the eejit with me. You know well enough who he is."

"I'm not from Manchester."

"DCI Gene Hunt, CID," spat O'Brien with real loathing.

"There is no DCI Hunt here. CID is run by DCI Martin. You must be confused."

"Hunt fucked off to London, didn't he? To Scotland Yard. Good riddance."

Alex's heart pounded in her chest. They had him. It was so close. She willed Crane to keep calm and cool.

"I'm sorry, but you are genuinely mistaken. I work at the Yard from time to time and there is no DCI Hunt there either."

O'Brien did a double take. "But… but… he is there. I check- er… I know he is."

"You checked? Now… what a curious thing to say. Why would you check where this mysterious DCI Hunt was?"

"He's not mysterious! He fucking well ruined me. I know where that prick is."

"Why is it so important to you to know his whereabouts?"

"I could give a SHIT where he is, once it's far away from me."

"Hmmm… interesting," said Crane, flipping open a file. "Why were you in London in November?"

"How did you know –"

"Why were you in London in November?" repeated Crane. "Were you looking for your friend, this Mr Hunt?"

"He's no friend of mine. I was at a match, if you must know. Is there a law against Irish people going to matches now?"

"There is if they threaten a senior police officer while they're there."

O'Brien paled.

"I-I n-never…"

"Patrick, why don't we just stop all this bravado, right here. Right now. I know exactly who DCI Gene Hunt is. And I can tell you for a fact that he doesn't work at Scotland Yard. So your little Christmas present went astray. And clever people began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Those people are people like me. You thought your life was complicated when Hunt was around? You're marked by Special Branch now, Patrick. And not only you… your entire family too. That pretty little ex-wife of yours with the children? Your family in Belfast? All watched."

"You leave them out of this! You _bastards_!" O'Brien's eyes filled with tears.

"You gave us no choice _Paddy_. You let us think you're in the IRA. What did you think we would do? Nothing? You thought it was _funny_? You think THIS is funny?"

"No! No… no wait. I'm not in the IRA. My wife and kids… they've got nothing to do with me or anything that's fucked up in this world."

"So _you_ say. Why would I believe you? You can see how this must look from our perspective. So you better start talking and explain the whole thing to me. Otherwise I've got some colleagues in the Royal Ulster Constabulary who'd just love to place your smart-mouthed younger brother into Castlerae or another internment camp of my choosing. Maybe the H-Blocks. Would he like a stint on dirty protest or maybe even join in a hunger strike?"

"You bastards," repeated O'Brien softly. "You complete and utter bastards… it's not enough that Hunt had to ruin my life, you're going to ruin my family as well?"

"You forget, O'Brien. This is all you. Your fault. The degree of the charges against you will depend on your co-operation now."

O'Brien shakily reached for one of Crane's cigarettes and lit it. "I couldn't stand it… that smug bastard sitting there… at a match. Not a care in the fuckin' world. And there was me with nothing anymore because of him and his monkeys."

"What did you do, Patrick?"

"I only tried to scare him. Let him worry about something for once in his charmed life… I wrote him a message."

"And what was that message?"

"I wrote it in Irish. Told him that we're all in each other's shadows. And… and… I signed it… from the IRA."

"Just to frighten him?"

"To make him worry. God knows, I lived in his shadow for long enough. He nearly killed me and _everyone_ around knew a copper had a go off me and won. I was an outcast and I couldn't get anything right. I couldn't even go to the pub without getting a slaggin'. The wife left me after a while and took my darling children with her. What did I ever do to deserve that? It was him… Gene _fucking_ Hunt who kicked the living shit out of me and got away with it. Kicked me half to death and then forgot all about me. So I wrote him a note to remind him that I sure as fuck didn't forget about him."

"Where did you write this note?"

"I saw The Cunt had left his footie programme on his seat at half time. I wrote it in the middle section."

"Then what did you do?"

"Nothing until two weeks before Christmas. I had this old bullet, see? Me Da gave it to me a few years ago. Got it from the IRA, he said. It's a dangerous fucking thing, right enough. One evening, I knocked it off the shelf where I kept it. I figured it would serve a purpose if I sent it to him as a little reminder."

"How did you know where to send it?"

"Asked around, didn't I? A good mate of mine said he was working with the Met in Scotland Yard."

"Your mate was wrong."

"I fucking realise that now, don't I?" said O'Brien forlornly, finishing his cigarette.

Crane exhaled slowly, as did Alex in the adjoining room. It was over. All over.

"Your bullet was a dud. Did you know that?" asked Crane, not finished yet.

"No," came the glum reply.

"So you thought you were sending a live bullet to DCI Hunt?"

"Yes."

"Let's wrap this up, O'Brien. Is there anything else you want to tell me? Because if I find that you've left something out then I –"

"I haven't. That's it. Everything. I wrote that stupid fucking note and sent the bullet. And as you've pointed out, I even did that wrong. Just… please… _please_ don't get my wife and kids mixed up in this. And if you could see your way to leaving my brother alone too… please. Just… please don't do it. Don't set the RUC on him… please… Oh God, please…" O'Brien was crying now, desperate to save what was left of his family. He'd tried to beat Hunt one last time and failed. He could take whatever was coming if he knew that innocent people weren't going to be dragged into this.

"You're fucking pathetic, do you know that?" spat Crane. "You don't deserve any favours from me. But I'll hold you to it. So help me O'Brien, if I discover you were lying to me, or that you've held something back, I'll have all your family implicated the next time some IRA bastard so much as farts. For now they're safe and their continued safety is in your hands. But don't you think for one second that I'll fucking hesitate. We clear?"

"Yes. And I've told you everything. I swear."

"You swear?"

"Yes. I swear on me mother's grave."

Crane looked at him sceptically. "Did you talk about your little vendetta with anyone else?"

"No." But O'Brien had glanced at the table top for a split-second before answering.

"Think carefully about that answer O'Brien and remember what I said. I will not _hesitate_ to ruin you in ways you can't even imagine yet."

Alex felt distinctly uneasy about this. Threatening innocent people with a fit-up, which they couldn't follow through on, was a risky tactic. It wasn't her style. Worse, it wasn't right. O'Brien was an insignificant petty criminal and they were leaning on him extremely heavily.

Apparently, O'Brien was having second thoughts too. "You would too. Have me, or God knows who else, thrown into jail to rot because you don't like my accent. Fit me up with some bombing or other."

"Are you done crying into your sleeve? I asked you a question. Did you speak anyone else about your vendetta against DCI Hunt?"

O'Brien sighed brokenly. "No. Who the fuck would listen to me anyway?"

Crane got to his feet. "Patrick O'Brien, I am charging you with the unlawful harassment of a police officer with the intention to cause bodily harm. Good day to you."

* * *

With that Crane walked out of the room and went into see Alex. She jumped up when he entered.

"David! You did it!" she beamed, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"_We_ did it, Alex!" he replied, smiling at her. "Right – you go ring DCI Hunt. I better ring my Guv and let's get the hell out of here. Manchester can deal with O'Brien."

She squeezed his hand again and made a beeline for the telephone. Gene answered on the first ring.

"Alex?"

"It me – Oh Gene, it's over! We did it! _We did it!!_ O'Brien confessed to it all."

"It's over?" he repeated incredulously. "It's really over?"

"It is!" she replied, wishing she could throw her arms around him. She could hear noises in the background and then shouts and whoops as Gene imparted the news.

"Bolls? You still there?" His voice was full of smiles.

"Yeah, course I am," she replied happily. "Gene, we're going to pack up here and then give ourselves plenty of time to catch the train back at three. We should be at Euston by seven."

"I'll be there... er… right. Ray's saying we'll _all_ be there with taxis to take us straight to Luigi's."

Alex laughed as her visions of leaping into his arms on one of Euston's platforms exploded into nothingness. "Well, let's hope this bloody train isn't late then. See you soon."

"Bye, Bolly. Well done! I'm proud of you." He spoke loudly over the din in his office, not able to say what he really wanted to say. He replaced the receiver and then beamed at the assembled crowd. "Right lads. We've got a party to plan."

* * *

The train pulled into the station too slowly but eventually, it thudded gently against the buffers. People flooded out of the carriages and Gene scanned over the heads of the crowd, eagerly looking for her. When most people had left, he saw Crane leave a carriage near the end of the platform and then Alex appeared.

"There they are!" cried Shaz, waving frantically. There were cheers from the group as the two officers wandered into view and were surrounded by their colleagues.

Alex was clapped on the back, kissed and hugged resoundingly by all present. Gene picked her up and swung her around, making her squeal with delight. He set her down gently and then hugged her tightly.

Children's voices cried out near him. "Daddy! Daddy!"

He turned and saw two little boys rushing towards Crane, who bent and scooped both of them up, one wriggling son tucked securely under each arm. His wife kissed him and the whole family turned and beamed at Alex.

"'Spector 'Lex!" cried one of the boys, clearly taken with her.

"Hello Jack," she smiled, giving the boy a playful stroke on his cheek with the back of her finger. "And how's Tony?" She gave the younger boy a tickle under his chin and he squirmed in shyness, burying his face against his father.

Gene watched her chat to Crane's wife and the last niggling doubt he had vanished into the diesel filled air of Euston Station. Crane was happily married. With kids. In other words, he really _wasn't_ interested in Alex. This was rapidly turning into one of his best days ever. He felt a tug on his coat and looked down. Crane's oldest boy, having escaped from his father, was looking up at him in awe.

"Hello," he smiled. The lad was barely higher than his knee. Big eyes staring up at him was the only response he got. "What's your name?"

The boy stammered, "Sir… J-Jack C-C-Crane, Sir."

Great. The kid was as achingly polite as his father.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir Jack Crane," twinkled Gene and shook the boy's hand.

More big eyes.

"Gene, don't tease!" said Alex playfully. "Jack, this is DCI Hunt. You remember we spoke about him?"

An awed nod, eyes still firmly fixed on Gene's towering form. "My Daddy wants you to be Guv because the other Guv is a wanker."

Crane paled and nearly dropped his youngest son. "_Jack_!"

His wife swooped on the boy, administering a light spank for the language, and apologised to Gene who, to give him his credit, was doing his level best not to collapse with laughter. Alex had her features schooled in a sombre expression but her that hand dug into his arm shook with her repressed giggles. Which is more than could be said for the rest of CID. It sounded like Ray had swallowed a cigarette and Chris was hooting like a demented pigeon.

"I'm so sorry Chief Inspector. I don't know where he heard –"

"But Daddy said –"

"_Be quiet_," she hissed.

"Oh, the lad is okay," said Gene, seeing tears were not far off. He crouched down to look the boy in the eye. "Sir Jack, you tell your Dad that he can come work for me whenever he wants to. All right?"

Another nod.

"Good lad. You keep them eyes and ears of yours open. Then you can work for me an' all."

"_Wow!_ Really?"

"Absolutely," smiled Gene and getting to his feet, he gently ruffled the boy's hair. "Be good for your Mother."

"Thank you, Guv," said Crane, and shook Gene's hand.

"Mind how you go, Crane. And I meant what I said. If you want to transfer from Branch then you just let me know."

"I might just take you up on that offer, Guv," said Crane, more animated than Gene had ever seen him.

"You know where I am. Do it sooner rather than later. No point in staying in a job you don't like." Gene hoped Crane would make the move while he was still DCI and in a position to get him on the team.

"I will, Guv. Thanks again for everything. It's been an honour working with you all."

"You're one of us now, Inspector," chimed in Chris. "Welcome aboard."

"Right. Let the man go home with his family before we all start crying into our hankies."

With a final round of goodbyes, the Cranes left, Jack still staring at Gene in awestruck wonder.

"You've got a real fan there," said Alex, nudging him. "What has David been saying about you?"

"More to the point, what's he been saying about Mooreland? Ha! Wanker. That was classic," grinned Gene and draped an arm around her. "Raymondo, get the taxis and let's get out of here. Luigi's awaits."

.oOo.


	13. Chapter 13

**One Another's Shadow**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's _Ashes to Ashes_ for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Here's where the story ends. Many thanks to you all for your support and continued enthusiasm. I never would have imagined that so many people would enjoy this fic. But there you go - shows you what I know. It's been an interesting journey, that's for sure. Finally, a huge thank you to Lucida Bright for her excellent beta skills and encouragement. I can tell you now, if it hadn't been for her reassurance, some of this chapter would never have been posted. That's it folks. I hope you enjoy the read.

* * *

Nobody even noticed that in the taxi back, and in Luigi's, that Alex and Gene were inseparable. No one apart from Shaz. She nudged Chris later on that evening, when the party was in full swing. A few people were dancing near the bar and to Chris's amazement, off in the furthest corner of the trattoria, the Guv was there with his DI in his arms, both looking very much the couple. Gene was saying something to her and she was smiling up at him. He had one of her hands in his and was holding it against his chest while the other was wrapped around her waist. Alex's head moved back to his shoulder and he tightened his arm around her.

"No…" Chris looked at Shaz in astonishment. "No! No _way_."

"I bet they are," she replied. "I've thought so for a while. It's obvious."

"_No._" said Chris again, looking truly stunned. "For how long?"

"How long what?" asked Ray, catching Chris's look.

"The Boss and the Guv," hissed Chris, inclining his head in their direction. "It _can't _be."

"Why not?" asked Ray, with a shrug. "I reckon it's been goin' on for a few months. Haven't you noticed that he's like a bear wi' a sore head whenever she's not around? And I tell you one thing, mate, when it were us doing babysitting, we never walked hand in hand with him to various little eateries, did we?"

"And they did?"

"Yup," replied Ray, looking smug that he had kept the Guv's secret. However, now that it was out, he was dying to talk about it. He had seen them in the Quattro earlier that morning and was practically certain he saw them breaking apart after a kiss. "A few times, when they'd go for dinner and I'd be on the late duty, I'd pass them by in the car on the way to his house. I seen them. Drake sometimes had her hand in his pocket an' all."

Chris looked utterly stunned. Shaz smirked at him. "Did you want to walk hand in hand with him, then?"

"No!" Chris exploded and Ray laughed. "I'm just… I never noticed it. How could they be like you and me," he gestured between himself and Shaz, "and have people around them the entire time and I saw nothin'? Not any of the hand holding, or… _nothin'_."

"It's called _being discreet,_ Chris," she smiled. "They don't want people to know their private business."

"Wait – how did you know?" he asked. "You weren't around them all the time like me an' Ray."

"Woman's intuition," she replied mysteriously. "It doesn't have to be the obvious things. It was just little things over a period of time. I bet they don't want people to know about them yet."

"They know now," said Ray, as the music ended but Alex and Gene still had their arms around each other. Sensing a few pairs of eyes on them they let each other go and reclaimed their usual seats at the bar.

"Nah," said Chris, not convinced. "That were just a dance. The Guv and Drake? I can't see it."

"Okay. Have it your way mate, but yer wrong," said Ray, reaching for his pint.

"But she's the DI," said Chris, as if that explained everything.

Ray shrugged. "So?"

"So… yer not supposed to go out wi' people that you work with."

Shaz sighed and shot him a withering look.

He responded with a confused, "What?"

"Jesus, mate," laughed Ray, "How the fuck can you track a flippin' match ticket across the country yet be such a complete and utter _twonk_ at the same time?"

"What did I say?" protested Chris and then, realisation dawned on him. "Oh. Oh, right… yeah."

"You big silly," laughed Shaz, hugging him tightly. "There's no rule against it, Chris. And look, they're both at their best when they're together. It stands to reason."

"I thought they were just good mates," he said, feeling foolish.

"They _are_ good mates," said Ray. "I just think they're somethin' more than that now. What's the big deal anyway? Drake doesn't go around draped all over him and the Guv is still the Guv. You'd never know he was seein' a bird."

Ray took another gulp of his pint, knowing he had said too much in front of Chris and Shaz. Chris wasn't the same anymore, not since _she_ happened to him. Ray wouldn't have had such a problem with it but his face was constantly being rubbed in their fluffy happiness. That drove him up the wall. But the Guv and Drake had kept things very low key, which was more than okay with him.

"Can't see how the Guv does it, meself. A looker like Drake?" He shook his head. "Ah well, she's not the first and she won't be the las-"

"Aww, _don't,_ Ray." said Shaz, stopping him before he finished the sentence. "This isn't a brief fling. It's different. You can see it."

Ray looked at her askance. "Different how? We're not talking flippin' _marriage_ here, Shaz."

"How much are you willing to bet on that?" she replied, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Twenty quid. Fifty quid!" he exploded. No way. Not when things were almost back to normal. The Guv _couldn't_.

Chris upped the ante to one hundred in shocked agreement with Ray.

Shaz laughed. "Oh, boys. Someday you're going to get the surprise of your lives."

"There's no _way, _Shaz," repeated Ray, grasping for a reason. "You've heard Drake enough times sayin' she was leavin'. She has a whole life… back wherever it is she came from."

"That's a thing,' added Chris. "Where does she come from?"

Everyone shrugged.

"At least we knew about Tyler and his transfer from Hyde – but Drake?" Ray shrugged. "I haven't a clue."

"That's strange, isn't it?" asked Shaz. She looked and Alex and Gene again. "I hope she's going to stay. I think it would break his heart if she left."

Ray and Chris snorted with laughter. "Okay Mrs Happy-ever-after," scoffed Ray. "Look, they're goin' out, probably even shaggin' at this stage. Fine. But I know the Guv and I've known him a lot longer than you. He's a love 'em and leave 'em type of bloke and he won't be falling arse over tit for a posh bit o' skirt. If she up and left in the mornin' he'd be miffed, right enough. But he'd get over it and carry on. The Guv doesn't do all that mushy love bollocks. He's the Guv. Hard as friggin' nails. Unbreakable."

"Too right." chimed in Chris.

"Unless…" said Ray and left his sentence hanging.

Shaz and Chris were all ears.

"Unless what?" she asked, eager to hear what else Ray might know.

"You know. Is she… up the duff?"

Chris almost fell off his chair and Shaz looked annoyed. "Not that _again,_ Ray. No, she isn't."

"How do you know?" he asked, rather nettled. "Come on, you think she's been that sick just because of a headache?"

"Yes," she said vehemently. "I've had a few migraines and that's exactly what happens. She was _really_ ill and in a lot of pain. It's not very nice to speculate like that."

"Okay, okay," he said, placatingly.

"Christ, you had me worried there for a moment, mate," said Chris, sufficiently reassured by Shaz. "Seein' as how that's not the case then, no. I can't believe that they're, you know, seeing each other."

"I reckon they are but it's only a fling," said Ray, sipping his pint. "We'll have to be there to pick the pieces up, mind you. When they eventually bollocks it all up."

"That won't be pretty."

"Fuck no."

Shaz held up her hands in surrender and changed the topic of conversation. She knew she wasn't going to convince anyone in this argument. Ray had accepted that Drake and Hunt were "going out" but that's as far as it went in his eyes. It didn't bother him precisely because it didn't bother him. Chris wasn't even convinced that they were seeing each other. She, however, suspected that it was something more.

She had seen it over the past few months, especially since the incident with the Prices. The Guv stopped teasing Alex almost straight after that. Okay, he only stopped for a little while, but for those initial few days – well, he was almost kind.

Before she came back to work, Shaz would meet up with the gang almost every night in Luigi's and that's when she began to notice it. Alex seemed very fragile, very quiet, and he went out of his way to be gentle with her. Not in an obvious way but he would make sure himself and Alex were just that little bit further removed than usual from the rest. He got Alex the best Luigi could offer by way of food and drink but he didn't let her drink herself into a coma. Once, Shaz was certain that Alex had started crying and the Guv, without making a big deal of it, just brought her outside under the pretence of wanting company while he bought smokes.

That's when it had all started. They had always sparked off each other but it was different after those evening in Luigi's. By the time she got back to work, Shaz saw little changes there too. Nothing overt but for someone who noticed (and Shaz noticed things) it was obvious. He asked her opinion more often, he didn't dismiss her strange ways of analysing cases, he had even left her in charge a few times. For her part, Alex had stopped deliberately needling him. She still drove him crazy when she started talking about her various theories but it was different now. She only teased him in fun and Shaz had interrupted them bantering in the kitchenette. The air crackled with electricity and… fun, and she saw the Guv smiling on occasion. Sometimes, the Guv even made his own tea or coffee and he'd plonk a cup down on Alex's desk with some of his pink wafers, whether she asked for it or not.

By the time this whole IRA and O'Brien thing started she was convinced. While both were obviously very worried and stressed about the whole situation they somehow seemed happier. Shaz could certainly say that Alex was less of an enigma than she had been. She stood her ground with everyone in the squad now and had earned their respect. She worked well with people, even with Ray. He had done the unthinkable and started calling her Boss. Shaz had been stunned when that happened.

As for the Guv, unbreakable and hard as nails he may be, but that didn't mean he couldn't happy or be capable of kindness or, indeed, of _needing_ kindness. Even though he had to be going nearly crazy with worry, it also looked like a great load had suddenly lifted from him. He may have looked visibly beaten down at times but all it took was Alex to take him to dinner and he'd be rejuvenated. His eyes were brighter and that terribly sad look he wore at times was almost a thing of the past. Ray and Chris could deny what they liked but Shaz knew what she was seeing. Two lost souls had finally found each other.

She smiled and hugged Chris's arm tightly. The next few months were going to be interesting to say the least.

* * *

"Do you think they're finished talking about us now?" growled Gene. He shouldn't have danced with her. Even though he really wanted to. And he loved it.

"No. We'll be _the_ topic of conversation until something else grabs their attention," she said, smiling at him.

He sent a glare towards Ray and Chris. "I'll grab their bollo-"

"Gene." She laughed. "Who cares? Let them talk. Doesn't bother me."

"Well, it bothers me," he said, a sour look on his face.

"Why?"

"Because we haven't even decided what this is or where we're going yet. It's early days and I don't want them sniggering like poxy schoolkids."

"Trust me – if it wasn't this, they'd find something else. But I don't see anyone laughing, so there's no point in getting worked up over it. Anyway, there have been rumours about us for months. Did you hear about a drawing or note or something that was pinned up in the kitchen? Apparently it w-"

"Oh that! Yeah… I heard about that. Yeah. Just some of the lads having a laugh. Don't worry about it. It was sorted out." Gene was mortified. That bloody doodle. He _knew_ that Chris, Ray and Shaz had retrieved it from his bin. He vividly remembered their barely concealed amusement as his discomfort and that was all the proof he needed. He would've given them a right bollocking if only… if only he hadn't drawn the damn thing in the first place.

"There." Alex smiled. "See ­– they were only having a laugh. Gene, don't be annoyed if people talk about us. Just ignore it. Please," she said, reaching for his hand. "I don't care if they know we're seeing each other or not. We've been through enough and deserve a bit of happiness, wouldn't you say?"

His overwhelming instinct was to pull his hand away but he fought it back. He wanted this relationship to work. For once in his life he wanted something more than just the job. Well, if that's what he wanted he was going to have to do something that Gene Hunt just did not do. Talk.

Alex was clever but she wasn't a bloody mind reader. If he didn't want to hold hands, or be all touchy-feely (sweet Jesus save him from _that_) in public, specifically when there were people from work around, then he was going to have to tell her. He moved his thumb gently across the back of her hand and then took his hand away. He wasn't annoyed, but there was a time and a place.

"Okay, Bolls. Can't say that I'll like it, but I'll let it go. Let them have their fun and, as you say, something else will come along to entertain them in due course. In the meantime, you and I should probably, you know, have a chat, like. See what we're doing here. Get a few things out in the, uhh… open," he coughed. God but he was appalling at this. He could feel his face getting hot. He swallowed as his mouth was getting dry, "If you want to, mind. I'm not saying we have to, or nothing. I just thought that it'd be a good idea to have er… a talk." He voice cracked on the last word.

"It _is_ a good idea," she replied, wanting to touch him again but knew he was reticent about it for some reason. "And we will, whenever you're comfortable with it. So don't look so panicked; it doesn't have to be right now. Let's just… go with the flow. Okay?"

He took a deep breath and another swig of his pint. "I'm fucking useless at this Bolly. _Useless_. That's why I can't just ignore all them sniggering _bastards_. I feel like they're waiting on me to fuck it up. Or behave like the way I usually do with birds. You know…" he coughed again, unable even to think about Alex as a one night stand.

"A meal, a bottle or few of wine, and a quick shag afterwards?" she finished for him with a wink.

Gene thumped his pint onto the bar with a laugh and accidentally slopped some beer over his hand. He looked around to see who was in earshot. Luckily, no one.

"Christ, Bolls. Keep your voice down," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye and wiped his hand with a napkin.

"It's not like it'll be news to that lot, is it?" she said with a smile, nodding towards the increasingly merry bunch of detectives and police officers. "I bet that twinkle in your eye has earned you more luck with women than you'd care to admit."

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," he replied, still smiling at her. "But really, a lot of it was beauty in the eye of the beer holder, if you catch my drift."

Alex laughed, her full proper laugh, and he couldn't help but join in.

Through her laughter, Alex said, "Oh Gene Hunt! You really are quite the sweet talker, aren't you?"

"Suave and silver-tongued, Bolls. I keep telling you," he grinned, making her giggle again.

"I know!" she grinned. "Gene, you don't realise it but… you and I?" she shook her head, "I've talked more with you than I have with any other man, including my ex. You know more about me, have helped me, have made me laugh more than anyone I have ever _known_. Yes, there are things that we should talk about over time but… nothing major. So don't underestimate yourself. You're not as useless at it as you seem to think you are."

Gene was amazed at her words. "But I haven't done anything different! Not yet. I haven't tried to be… I dunno… a boyfriend," he stopped and gave a sudden snort of laughter at the thoughts that he was a _boyfriend_ before continuing, "I haven't even taken you out someplace that you would like or –"

"You've been you. And I've enjoyed every moment. Don't you realise that you don't need to be anything else? That I don't _want_ anything else. I like _you_. Just the way you are."

Then she yawned suddenly. "Oh, I'm sorry…" she apologised, for gaping in his face and followed her apology with another yawn.

"I think it's time to call it a night," he said, finishing his pint and motioning for Luigi to come over. All the time, his heart sang. Alex couldn't have said anything that would have made him happier. She liked him for himself, faults, bad temper, scars and all.

A weary Luigi trudged over to Gene but he still had a smile on his face. "You ah… had a good night, Mr Hunt?" he asked, bowing his head slightly.

"One of the best, my friend. One of the best," said Gene, clapping Luigi on the shoulder and almost sending the smaller man to his knees. "Now then. You want me to fix up with you this –"

"Oh no, Mr Hunt. No. Not this evening. I sort the bill out another day with you, yes?"

"Fair enough," replied Gene, knowing that Luigi could be trusted to do up the account. "Least I can do is get this lot moving for you."

"Oh grazie, Signore. Grazie," said Luigi gratefully.

"Grassy arse, Luigi!" called Chris. "Grassy arse."

Luigi sighed his long-suffering sigh.

"I'll give you a grassy arse if you don't hop it," said Gene, cuffing Chris around the ear playfully. "Right. Let the man close up. Home boys, home."

It took about fifteen minutes but eventually, Gene cleared everyone out apart from Alex who was, by now, visibly wilting at the bar.

"We'll be off then, Luigi," he said, pulling Alex to her feet carefully. "Thanks for the night."

Luigi bowed again. "You know you are always welcome here," he said, truly meaning it even though he was worn out. He looked at his two favourite customers carefully. "You take care of her, Signore, yes? And Signorina – You take care of him."

"I will," they both answered simultaneously and then neither knew where to look.

"Ahhh, amore – perfetto!" grinned Luigi, clapping his hands together. "Goodnight, goodnight."

"Yes. Goodnight, Luigi. Thanks again," said Gene eager to get away from the profuse enthusiasm. Alex gave Luigi a small wave goodbye and Gene guided her up the stairs and out to the entrance to the upstairs flats.

At her front door, he bent down and kissed her softly. "Goodnight, love," he whispered, feeling her arms encircle his waist under his jacket.

"On your own again," she said, voice muffled from his shoulder. "Why do I feel like I should be walking _you_ home?"

Gene exhaled a laugh, "Old habits," he said, tightening his arms around her.

"Would you rather stay?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

"_Yes!_" screamed his mind. "No," he said. "You're knackered and we're both pissed, Bolls. Wouldn't be fair to you."

"Beer holder?" she queried, giving him a light kiss. Followed by another. And another.

"Not really, 'cause I already know you're flipping gorgeous and I don't need the dutch courage," he replied sombrely, "But…" If only she'd stop looking at him and stop with those tiny kisses. He was rapidly losing the will to leave.

"But what?" she said, kissing him slowly again before pulling back. "I'm not so tired that I'd rather you went home. Also, I'm not drunk, not even close, and I don't believe you are either."

"Oh God… Alex…" he moaned, now knowing that he was totally under her spell. "We're supposed to work this all out… take it slow…"

"Slow is way overrated," she purred, lightly running her hands up and down his spine. "We've waited long enough…"

It was more than he could bear and he kissed her intensely, pressing her up against the door.

"I see nothing, I know nothing," came a voice from behind them and Luigi hurried by, shielding his eyes behind his hand and turned into his own flat.

The moment being broken, yet again, made Gene laugh against her lips. "Well, that's just great," he chuckled. "Now I know why I love this place. Fawlty Towers."

"_I know __nothing.._." Alex did a passable impression of Manuel.

Gene laughed loudly. It was such a rare sight to see him really laughing that Alex hugged him tightly and said, "You know Gene, where Luigi is concerned, well… don't mention the war." Which only set him off again.

Gene gasped out lines like, "You started it. You invaded Poland..." between guffaws, making her laugh with him.

"Christ, I needed that," he said eventually, dashing the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Right, Bolls. I'm off and I'll see you in the morning."

"It's Sunday tomorrow," she said, feeling a pang as they wouldn't see each other at the office as usual.

"So?" he said. "Meet me at the bakers, near the cinema, and we'll pick up something for breakfast."

"Okay," she agreed, smiling. "Nine o'clock?"

"Nine is perfect," he said and kissing her one last time, whispered, "Night, sweetheart."

"Night, love," she replied. He squeezed her shoulders in affection; he liked the sound of that.

She let herself into the flat and, giving him one last tiny kiss, she closed the door. Moving to the window she waited until he was outside and walking away. Just as he crossed the road, he turned and waved at her, knowing she was watching him. She would be always watching out for him from now on. He knew he'd do the same for her. Always.

Gene smiled to himself and walked on, turning the corner at the end of the road and headed for a taxi rank. Then he stopped.

What the _fuck_ was he doing?

* * *

Alex jumped when she heard a heavy knock on her door. She opened it slightly and was greeted by the sight of Gene leaning against the doorjamb, breathing heavily. He had run all the way back.

"Did you forget something?" she asked, opening the door fully.

He nodded.

"What?"

His intense eyes gazed directly into hers.

"Oh," she smiled as he stepped into the flat and shut the door with a firm backwards kick. "_That_."

"Said I'd make sure you couldn't think straight for a week after tonight, didn't I?" he said in a low voice.

Alex placed her arms around his neck with a warm smile. "Why, yes, Gene. I believe you did."

"I almost forgot about it."

"Almost?"

"Almost," he replied, kissing her cheek gently, before moving to her neck.

"Just as well you remembered before you made it all the way home," she said, tilting her head back to give him more access as his lips moved to hers.

"Alex… now would be… a really good time… to stop talking," he growled between kisses.

"You first," she said and followed it with an excited squeak as he tickled her and then scooped her up.

He carried her through to the bedroom, setting her down gently, but not letting her go. He hoped that he would be able to take things slowly. He had wanted this for so long and he didn't want it to be over in a few minutes but… God… if she kept kissing him like that…

He took a step back and began to ask her if she was sure she wanted this but Alex, sensing he was about to speak, captured his lips with her own again. She pushed his jacket from his shoulders and he smiled. She was definitely okay with this. Hands fumbled at clothes, zips, belts, tights and other various bits of underwear. There was quiet laughter (especially when Gene couldn't figure out where the clasps on her belt were) and soft sighs as they explored each other.

Alex was giddy but also completely in control, largely because he seemed happy enough for her to take the lead, which surprised her. She had thought that he would be as commanding or imposing now as he was in his day-to-day existence. But he wasn't. He let her set whatever pace she was comfortable with.

It was Alex who eventually pushed him down onto the bed and he caught her hands in his, pulling her gently on top of him. She smiled at him and bent down to kiss him tenderly, sucking his bottom lip between her own and nibbling at it softly. Eventually, he rolled her over and with her legs and arms wrapped around him, he felt as though he could finally say he was truly happy. Last few seconds on earth? Memory that he would take to his grave? This would be it, no question.

She let her hands wander all over his body, occasionally coming across a scar from an old injury. Her fingers trailed over each one tenderly, almost as if she was trying to sooth the hurt that had ripped through him. Gene moved to his side and let her continue her exploration as her mouth replaced her fingers. When she kissed the deep and jagged scar on his leg she moved back up to hug him tightly.

"Anyone who comes after you in the future will have to get through me first," she whispered in his ear.

"Quite the lioness, aren't you?" he whispered back and carefully moving over her, he held her head between his hands, his fingers caressing her temples. "My defender. Wouldn't have it any other way – as long as you know that I am yours too. Always."

She nodded as her eyes swam with happy tears.

"You great soft girl, you," he said, kissing her soundly. "Love that about you. Tough as an ol' boot. Softest heart going."

He moved down, trailing kisses from her neck down between her breasts, cupping the soft weight in his hands. He sucked at one nipple gently and felt the other harden under his palm. Alex moaned with pleasure as he suckled at one breast and then the other, making her gasp and squirm and try to pull him closer. He relaxed, feeling her arms move around his shoulders and her hands capture the back of his head. Hoping he wasn't too heavy he lay on top of her, his ear directly over her heart, listening to it hammering beneath her ribs. She may have the softest heart but it was his and he would guard it with his life. She was alive; soft and warm beneath him. Every fibre of his being begged for her and he yearned to lose himself in her.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him gently until he moved up to kiss her again and watched as her eyes widened as he entered her slowly.

She sucked a breath in through her teeth and pulled him closer with her legs. Her eyes fluttered shut, concentrating on letting her body relax and adjust to him.

He pulled back slightly and then gently thrust into her again, eliciting a little mewl of pleasure from her. They moved together now, in almost silence, broken only by an occasional moan or gasp. Alex gave a cry that was somewhere pleasure and he thought, pain, so he paused. "Okay?"

"Oh yes…" she breathed back, smiling. "Wonderful…"

He moved as if to roll away from her, concerned that maybe he had hurt her but she wouldn't unwind her legs from around him. "Don't you even think about it," she said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back and thrust into her again, harder this time, eliciting a long moan of contentment. Slowly, slowly he increased his pace but he didn't think he could last much longer. She moaned lowly and moved her legs higher up over his hips.

"Jesus…" he breathed, as her movement caused him to slide deeper into her. "That feels… amazing…"

Alex felt incredible and was totally lost in the moment. She had wanted this for so long, wanted to feel him next to her, moving sweetly inside her. Nothing mattered except what they were doing. She clung to him, relishing the feel of his shoulders and back beneath her hands. His intensity and passion engulfed her and she gave him her entire body and soul. The sensations and pleasure they were giving each other made her feel light-headed but curiously focused at the same time. Their bodies were covered with a sheen of perspiration; their heat, sights and sounds… it was too much.

When Alex cried his name out like a mantra beneath him, it was all he needed to hear and he followed her into ecstasy, burying his face between her neck and shoulder, gasping her name.

He lay still for a moment but his arms were trembling so he moved to pull away but she held him securely.

"Stay," she breathed. "Don't move. It's okay… stay… stay with me…"

Carefully he let his body relax, blissfully content in her arms for a few moments.

"Too heavy," he muttered. Swiftly, he rolled to his side, keeping her tight against him. She moved with him, keeping a leg and arm still wrapped around him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding onto her, unable to believe that they were finally lying together like this. He waited until their breathing had returned to normal and then gently, he pulled away from her, both moaning at the separation.

"Don't worry, Bolls. Won't be for long," he smiled and he let her go for a moment to pull the duvet over them, lumping most of it over her so she wouldn't be cold. Alex kissed him for his thoughtfulness but they were both too hot so she pushed it away and just pulled the sheet up over them both.

After a period of relaxed silence, Gene spoke. "I hope you're not thinking, Bolly," he said, his voice hoarse and low but with a humorous tone to it.

She groaned at his teasing and gently ran her hand across his chest. "Sorry to disappoint you on that one," she grinned, kissing his shoulder. "All mental faculties still intact."

"Minx" he replied, winding some of her hair around his fingers. "Mental is right." He kissed her forehead fondly.

Alex sniggered and made him squirm as she trailed her fingers down his side.

"Steady on, love," he said, capturing her hand. "Can't start round two just yet."

Alex laughed and he made damn sure to imprint that particular laugh on his brain too. She shifted on to her shoulder properly to get comfortable. "It's been a long day," she sighed and kissed his chest again.

"Good one though, wouldn't you say?" he asked, yawning.

"One of the best," came her sleepy reply.

"Knew it would be…" he muttered with a self satisfied smile.

"Shut up Gene," she whispered, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Hmmmm" he replied and Alex smiled. She listened to his heartbeat and relaxed in the warmth surrounding her.

"Gene?"

There was no reply apart from a soft snore.

"Are you going to snore all night?" she whispered, reaching up to brush some hair away from his eyes.

Another snore, louder this time.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Alex sighed happily and allowed her eyes to drift shut, safe in the knowledge that when they opened, he'd be there.

* * *

He shivered. Something was tickling the back of his neck and he almost reached around to swat it away. Cracking an eye open, it all came flooding back. He wasn't at home; he was curled up in Alex's bed and she was beside him, still fast asleep. Very carefully he turned over to look at her. She was sleeping on her back and it was her hand that lay on the pillow next to him, which caused him to wake. He smiled and gently kissed her fingertips. They twitched.

Sleepily, she opened her eyes and met his blue ones with hers. They smiled at each other.

"Morning, beautiful," he said, his voice rough and low.

"Morning, sexy," she replied and kissed him.

Gene stretched languidly and then gathered her up, kissing her everywhere he could reach. He rubbed his stubbly chin on her shoulder and she giggled, squirming away from him.

"Well, Bolls, I don't know about you but I'm starving," he said. "Have you got grub in this place?"

"As it happens, I do," she replied, kissing him before swinging her legs out of bed.

Gene reached out an arm to encircle her waist, keeping her on the bed. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"Is breakfast going to fly in here by itself?"

"We'll get it later. First off, I'm going for a shower and shave. You take it easy here."

She turned to face him. "A shower sounds good. I need to wash British Rail right out of my hair."

"Shower it is," he said and surprising her, he reached over, pulled her towards him and carried her to the bathroom.

"Big strong man," she teased as he set her down.

"You love it."

"I do." She reached back and set the shower going, waiting for a few moments until the cold water turned warm. Hmmm. Warmish.

"No water?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Better make the most of it then. Come on," he said and gently pulled her under the spray with him. "Bloooody HELL." He gasped loudly as the almost-cold blast hit him.

Alex shrieked and turned into his chest, trying to leach some heat from him.

"Gah! Too cold for any funny business," he shivered, dipping his head down so the water could wet his hair.

"Too small, too," said Alex as her elbow knocked against the shower screen again.

"Just a bit," he chattered, blinking furiously as shampoo trickled into his eyes. "Ouch. Ow!"

"Here, let me. Tilt your head back," she directed, rinsing his hair off and keeping his face free of the few suds there were, thanks to the lukewarm water, marginally warmer, but not enough.

"Bloody. Luigi. Cheapskate. Landlord," he said between her rinsing actions.

Gene helped her quickly wash her hair and a few minutes later they were done. Gene took far too much pleasure in washing her body off with extreme attention to detail, repeating the process as he scrubbed her dry in the bedroom.

"Get off," she laughed as he returned to her breasts with his towel-covered hands. "You got them the first time."

"Just making sure. Wouldn't want you catching cold."

"Very thoughtful of you, Gene," she smiled, slipping on her comfortable bathrobe.

"You got one of those for me, then?" he asked, mooching around in her wardrobe, towel now slung low around his hips.

"Nope. All that will fit you are your own clothes," she said, pulling out a tracksuit from her chest of drawers that he had left there for football.

Ray and Chris had, at one, time, left spare clothes in the flat too but when she moved in, at least they had the decency to move their stuff out. Not so Gene. He kept more old, and sometimes smelly, clothes in her flat just to annoy her; sneaking them in when he came up for a drink. Sometimes she wouldn't find them for days. The sports socks were the worst.

Rather than argue with him, or object, which would probably have resulted in him taking over the entire wardrobe, she allowed him to use the bottom drawer. When she was feeling extra charitable, she used to include his tracksuit in the wash and put it back, ready for use the next time there was a match between plods and flatfoots. He hadn't played football since the whole O'Brien case started so the clean tracksuit had remained untouched for months. Gene never let on that he knew what she did for him until today. He slipped on the tracksuit bottoms and kissed her gently.

"That's for putting up with me," he said lightly. A tacit acknowledgement that he had been leaving clothes there to wind her up and a thank you, all rolled into one.

"You chancer," she grinned back. "Mind you; you owe me five loads of laundry."

"I'll make a start on that straight away," he replied making a dive for the bed and snatching his old green shirt from under her pillow. "Aha! I thought so. I wondered where this had gone. You wouldn't have had to do so much of my laundry if you didn't wear my stuff, Bolly Knickers." He shrugged into the shirt with a self-satisfied air.

"I've been sleeping in that, you know," she grinned. "You're wearing women's PJs."

"Nice try. You were the one wearing a man's shirt in the first place." He sniffed at the collar. "Lovely. Smells like you."

"Smelled like you originally," she said shyly. May as well tell him why she started to wear it.

He smiled at her uncharacteristic bashfulness. "Good grief, Bolly. We've got it bad, eh?"

"Have we?" she asked, grinning up at him as he pulled her into his arms.

"Oh yeah. We're sunk. I'm getting to like it though."

She laughed gently.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on. What, Bolls?"

"Where's big, scary Gene Hunt gone? He'd sooner have his toenails pulled than be…"

"Be what?"

"Well, sweet. Tender. The way you are now."

Gene shrugged. "Can't be big, scary Gene Hunt all the time. Just never had the chance before; never wanted it before. But if I can't be soft here with you, when it's just the two of us, well, we don't stand much of a chance. Do we?"

Alex was puzzled. "So, you're saying… er…"

"I'm saying that I've been given a second chance…" His face clouded over momentarily. This was hard for him. "This is us, Bolls. Nobody and nothing else matters. Work is work. We have to be different people there but when that front door closes it's just Alex and Gene.We'll be okay, just as long as we're not afraid to talk to one another. I'm glad you think I'm sweet… bloody odd talking like this too but… I'll get used it. Promise."

She kissed him as tenderly as she could. "I've known you are a kind and gentle man for a lot longer than you realise. I've seen your poor heart ache for your daughter and for mine. And I'm so glad that you trust me."

"With my life. And not just because I know you're a good copper but because I know you're a good woman too. I'm so glad I found you." He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, holding her tight against him. "Love you, Alex. Love you."

"Love you too, my Gene," she replied, snuffling into his damp hair.

He let her go after a few moments and kissed her forehead. "Do you know what I just realised?"

"No, what?"

"Jane and Molly. In a strange way it was our two little girls that brought us together."

Alex's eyes filled with tears as she realised the truth of his words. Her discovery about his daughter was the catalyst for their deeper understanding of each other. His kindness over her grief about Molly led to their first night in each other's arms.

"You're right," she said eventually, seeing her own emotions in his eyes. She kissed him soundly and tenderly tucked some of his flyaway hair behind his ear.

He gave a relaxed and happy sigh, kissing her fingers before letting her go. "Okay. I just need to shave and then we'll get some breakfast." He bent down and rummaged in the drawer, pulling out a neat shaving kit that he stashed in there for emergencies.

"I'll boil the kettle for you. Better than trying to shave with lukewarm water."

He went into the bathroom and Alex pottered around in the kitchen. Gene retrieved the kettle of boiled water as she rearranged all the plugs so the oven grill would work. Luigi really wasn't a very good landlord at all. But he was kind and he looked out for her. Alex wouldn't swap him for another landlord in all of London.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Gene shaving. He looked divine in his green shirt and tracky bottoms with his hair all spiky and unbrushed.

"Admiring the view?" he said loudly, spotting her looking at him in the mirror.

"Oh, yes." She leaned against the bathroom doorjamb.

The razor scraped under his jaw. "You're making me nervous."

Alex chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that. You're gorgeous, and you know it."

"That I do." He winked at her. "I'm gorgeous in your eyes. It's such a shame you're half blind."

"Cheek," she laughed, winding her arms around his waist and resting her forehead between his shoulder blades.

He loved the feel of her against him as he finished shaving; he carefully wiped off his face with a hot flannel, patted on a splash of aftershave and rinsed his razor and brush under the tap. He tried to fit everything into her tiny bathroom cabinet but only succeeded in knocking over numerous delicate little bottles of potions and lotions.

"Sorry, Bolls," he murmured, trying to straighten everything up as he had made a mess of her neatly arranged cosmetics.

She hugged him tighter. "It doesn't matter a bit. I don't need all that stuff anyway. Clear that shelf on the right and use that."

He thought it was a strangely intimate thing to do as he put all his shaving things next to her bits and pieces. His eyes landed on a few blister packets of tablets. Most of the tablets had been taken from the top packet. What was she taking pills for?

"Bolls? What's this?" he asked, turning around in her arms and showing her the packet, his eyes full of concern.

Alex smiled at him. "That, Gene, is the contraceptive pill."

"Oh. _Oh._ Right… er… sorry." He inwardly cringed and quickly shoved the packet back into the cabinet.

She took pity on him and gently moved him around in her arms again, reaching up to cup his face with her hands. "I started taking it three months ago because I knew that last night was going to happen sooner or later."

He swallowed. "Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

Her thumbs brushed gently over his satin smooth cheeks. "Who said anything about being sorry?"

Gene's slow smile made his eyes shine with happiness and she responded with a warm smile of her own. They would have this conversation again; they both knew it, but not today.

"So, breakfast?" he asked, hearing her tummy rumble.

"Yes, I think so. Got to keep our energy up," she grinned and led him into the kitchen.

* * *

They clattered about, making toast, tea and Gene managed not to set the grill on fire which was a feat Alex had yet to master. After eating and washing up, he decided that they'd spent enough time apart.

"Right, you," he said, reaching for her but Alex was way ahead of him. Quick as a flash, her bathrobe was on the floor, her lips were on his and his green shirt landed somewhere in the vicinity of the sofa. They landed on the bed together with a bounce. "Blimey, Bolly. That was fast work." He grinned up at her.

"Uh huh," she replied, kissing him. "Meant to ask you earlier. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Eventually," he grinned. "For a good hour, I reckon."

"An _hour_?" she scoffed, trailing her fingers across his shoulder. "More like an hour that was snore free."

"I do _not_ snore," he replied in mock outrage and then rolled her over, pinning her to the bed with his weight. "Take that back."

She shook her head.

"Take it back!" he warned, kissing her neck, nipping it lightly.

Another head shake.

"Okay, Missus. You asked for it," he cried as his hands swooped to her sides and tickled her mercilessly.

Alex shrieked with laughter and wriggled with all her might to shake him off but he would not be deterred.

"Arrgh! _Gene!"_ she cried between gasps of mirth and then squealed with laughter again.

"Beg for mercy." He teased, still tickling.

"_Never_!"

"Plead mercy, Bolly, or I keep going."

"No!" she giggled as he found another sensitive spot under her arm. His fingers lightly danced from under her arm to her side and then to the skin under her breast which made her gasp.

His fingers were replaced with his lips and she stopped struggling, feeling her body turn to jelly.

"I'm begging… mercy…" she whispered with a flicker of a smile as he continued his tender exploration and switched to her other breast. "Mercy…"

"Heard you the first time, pet," he said, bringing his hands down and wrapping them around her waist. "God… you are so beautiful."

Alex sighed in contentment as he kissed his way down her body, making her shiver with anticipation and excitement.

"Gene-oh!" she squeaked as he reached his goal. With his fingers and mouth he stroked and caressed until she was gasping his name and writhing beneath his touch. Even her legs got attention as he kissed his way down her thighs, to behind her knees and back up again. She was incapable of speech or rational thought and gave in to the desires and sensations that consumed her. Never, ever before had Alex let her control vanish like this. She was totally under his spell; open and vulnerable to him, completely trusting and without trepidation. This was a whole new experience and it was simply mind-blowing.

"Oh… please… oh my G-God…" she stammered, her body shaking with need and then suddenly, her orgasm crashed over her, making her cry out his name in delight.

He gathered her up and curling himself around her, he waited until her heart had stopped hammering. He could feel it, as he had one arm across her chest. "You okay?" he asked eventually.

"Mmmmm," came the relaxed, low reply as she moved languidly against him. He picked up one her arms and let go. It flopped back down to the bed with a cushioned whump.

"Never thought I'd see the moment when Alex Drake was thoroughly shagged out," he teased, nibbling at her ear.

"All your fault," she muttered, moving his hand to her lips and kissing it. "I think I'm going to love blaming you."

"As long as it's for the right reasons, you won't hear me complaining," he smiled, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck properly. "Now, I believe we have some unfinished business…"

She could feel him pressing against her back and she laughed softly, turning around in his arms. With a wicked grin she dived beneath the sheet and stayed there until Gene shouted her name and saw nothing but stars.

Much later, they decided that the best thing to do that day would be to stay exactly where they were. Finally, they could enjoy their moment together without interruptions.

Peace at last.

THE END


End file.
